


No One the Wiser

by Coffee_Flavored_Kisses



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Mutual Pining, alternate course of events and time, bed sharing, business partners to idiots to lovers, overdramatic everything tbh, overdramatic patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-07 20:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20981903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffee_Flavored_Kisses/pseuds/Coffee_Flavored_Kisses
Summary: Sebastien Raine is coming to town, and David isn't looking forward to seeing him. Not just because Seb is notoriously awful, but also because David is single, and a single David can be a dangerous thing around an ex. But what if, just for a few days, he wasn't single?That's where his hyper-capable business partner comes in...This is the fake boyfriends AU that no one asked for.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Sebastien is in this. No, there's no mention of any kind of abuse. Read and be free, my friends.

There is a certain kind of impossibility about David Rose. Rather, there are several. He is impossible to understand, impossible to reason with, impossible to know, truly and deeply. Unless, of course, one takes the time, the whole of five minutes or so that it takes to understand him. Once one has done this, the impossibility of David becomes a myth, somehow.

_“You are impossible to love.”_

Those had been the last words David had heard Sebastien speak. They’d happened at 2:10AM, when nothing good ever happens, and after three days of desperation, rejection, fighting, and begging.

David stared up at him from the bed and watched as Seb dressed. Wishing he hadn’t just wasted the past twenty minutes going down on a man he knew had been ready to leave for a while now.

“I think it’s best we end this now,” Sebastien told him, pulling a very expensive shirt over his shoulders, snaking his arms through it. “You’ve got that new gallery opening next month, I’ve got shoots coming out of my ears, and you don’t seem to be putting in the effort to make this work in spite of all that.”

“What more am I supposed to do? I’ve already told you it’s fine if you’re seeing other people.”

“I’m pretty sure_ I_ told _you _that.”

“And I’m willing to travel to meet up with you on location.”

“And I said you can’t do that because I might need that extra time to understand my muses.”

“‘Understand’ them?” David asked, crossing his arms in front of him. “The way I just ‘understood’ _you _in this bed?”

Seb smiled. “See? Maybe you do get it.”

David wasn’t sure he loved Sebastien. In fact, he was wondering now how he could possibly have had feelings for him at all. And yet he did, and he knew he did, and it hurt him somehow to watch Seb leave his apartment never to be seen again.

“I think you just need to give it time,” David pleaded as Seb grabbed his bag. “You need to give _me_ time.”

“For what?”

David hesitated. The ache of loneliness and desperation had never been so strong as in this moment. And he knew he shouldn’t have said it, but he said it anyway.

“To show you that you can love me.”

Sebastien ran his fingers through his hair, shook his head, walked toward the door. He stopped there, and in dramatic Sebastien Raine fashion, he turned to face David once again.

“You are impossible to love,” he said. With that, he was gone.

David pulled his knees up to his chest, blankets all around him, Seb’s overbearing cologne still lingering for too long. Clearly, the last four months of his life had been a waste. And no, he never thought Sebastien was The One because he didn’t think anyone was The One. There’s no such thing, he thought, and especially not for him. Especially not for a man who couldn’t even find a friend upon whose shoulder he could cry tonight. He knew he was needy and particular and high-maintenance and insecure, but he’d only just learned that all of that made him impossible as well.

He packed his bags and booked a flight home the next day. He cancelled his gallery opening. Maybe he didn’t have love waiting for him wherever his parents and sister were, but at least he wouldn’t be alone anymore.


	2. Chapter 1

In the three years since coming to Schitt’s Creek, David had found the love he’d been told, and not just by Sebastien, was impossible. He hadn’t found it in a romantic partner, but in the family he’d been stuck with. Of course, he wished they didn’t have to lose everything to their names to find the love, but he was just now beginning to think that maybe that wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened.

Or… okay, yes it was. Losing everything was the worst thing that could have possibly happened to them, and it did happen, and rebuilding had been extremely difficult. Still, he _was_ rebuilding, and they _were_ finding themselves again. He’d never seen his parents so in love, his sister more content not to be globe-trekking, or himself so confident in a brand new business that had just begun with a business partner who, out of nowhere, was becoming one of the best friends he’d ever had.

But being loved and getting laid, though he’d achieved both at various times over these past few years, had not been able to undo the pain and scars left from lovers in the past. A lot of those relationships were awful, and a lot of them left him broken and alone in the end. Amazingly, miraculously, he didn’t have occasion to think about them of late, though. None of them were anywhere around them, or knew anyone around them, and unless he ran across someone who happened to have the same name as one of them, or he saw an outfit that looked like something one of them would wear, he really didn’t think of any of them at all.

Except Sebastien.

He supposed Seb hadn’t done anything to him that was any worse than what anyone else had done. But there were two primary reasons he would, very rarely, still think about the man. One reason was that Sebastien was, to date, the longest relationship he’d ever had – a fact known only to David’s sister, Alexis. The other reason was that those last words that Sebastien had said would sometimes occur to David late at night when he thought about his life. Everything would circle around to that one particular impossibility about David. The one that he couldn’t fix. The fact that it is impossible to love him.

Some days, David knew this couldn’t really be true. Sebastien was just an asshole who wanted to have the last word that night, and he’d said something incredibly hurtful so that David would never contact him again. And it worked. But then there were other days, like the day he realized the first attractive man in this town who wanted him also wanted someone else, too, or the day he had to rely on the words of a child to teach him that having sex with a platonic best friend is not going to lead to anything healthy, that made David believe that it must be true. After all, he’d never had a serious relationship. He’d never been in love, except maybe that one time when it was also impossible, and his dating life had been a disaster.

So still he sometimes wondered if, and often accepted that, he was impossible to love.

The store that he had just opened, Rose Apothecary, was thriving and growing only a month in, and he felt positive about the progress they were making at the time. Of course, he could give some of the credit for its success to his capable business partner, Patrick. Capable, attractive, intelligent. A lot of things that David admired. Caring, respectable, sweet, generous, warm, amicable, interesting, nice…

David could go on.

But the thing about Patrick was that he was off-limits. For two reasons, mostly. One, he remembered how disastrous things had been when he’d slept with Stevie, how it had almost cost him the only true friendship he’d ever had. And two, because he wasn’t sure he was Patrick’s type. Sure, Patrick was nice to him and all, and in David’s experience, people are only nice when they want something from you. But not Patrick, somehow. Patrick was just nice for the sake of being nice, and it was refreshing. It didn’t matter that Patrick was kind of beautiful in a boy-next-door sort of way or that sometimes he looked at David like David hung the stars or that when they’d hugged that one time, David didn’t want to let go. None of that meant anything, he told himself. That’s just what a healthy business partnership looks like. In other words, _don’t fuck this one up, David_.

But then it was Wednesday. Wednesdays are notorious sneaky things, and this one was no exception. David woke up feeling, somehow, that today would be a bad day. Maybe not the worst, but bad enough. And it took a little bit of time for him to discover why he had this feeling of foreboding, but when he did, he decided to go right back to bed.

He texted Patrick that he needed the day off for a personal day. Patrick asked if everything was okay, but David didn’t answer. How could he answer? What was he supposed to say?

“I’m alright, but my ex-boyfriend is in town and he’s awful and I’m going to be filled to the brim with self-loathing, so I’m going to need a few days.”

No, yeah, maybe that would have worked.

He watched Alexis frantically marching in and out of the bathroom getting ready for her day. Alexis had her own problems, what with her unrequited love for her boss and all, so he wasn’t going to volunteer any information to her. But he could see that in her own way she was worried about him. And he thought it might be nice to talk about it with someone who actually knew why David was so upset.

“So mom really shat the bed on this one, didn’t she?” he mumbled as Alexis fished through her bag for eyeshadow.

Alexis looked over at him. “It’s just for a couple of days, David. You probably won’t even see him while he’s here.”

“You think he won’t come find me and remind me of his awfulness?”

“I don’t know, David,” she told him absently, recovering the eyeshadow and taking it to the bathroom.

David snuggled further into the blankets. “You do remember how terrible he was, don’t you?” he shouted.

“Of course I do,” she answered. “He was the one that, like, told you you were too clingy or whatever, right?”

David rolled his eyes. “He was one of the ones that said that, yeah.”

“Yeah, but he was, like, calling you needy and telling you that he needed an open relationship and stuff?”

“Uh-huh,” he answered a bit quieter now. He had also not been the only one who’d said that.

Alexis returned from the bathroom, completely made up now and looking as gorgeous as she always did, even in scrubs. “And he said the thing about you being unlovable or whatever.”

David only nodded.

It seemed Alexis now understood David’s trepidation, and she sat at the foot of his bed trying her best to act as though everything would be fine. But she knew this would be a disaster. No Rose had ever run into an ex and had a thoroughly wonderful, drama-free experience.

“I wish you had friends,” she told him.

David only glared at her.

“No, I mean like a friend you could stay with. Because if he’s being all snakey around here looking for you, it might be a good idea if you weren’t also here.”

“You think I haven’t thought of that?” he asked.

“What about Jake?” she asked.

“Jake? The one who wanted to be a throuple with me and Stevie?”

“Well, yeah,” she shrugged. “Maybe you could just stay with him for the next couple days. I mean, yeah. He’s not great, but that’s your type anyway.”

“I’m not staying with Jake,” he told her.

“Well you should stay with someone. Preferably someone you could tell Sebastien you’re dating. Maybe he’d back off.”

“He’s not that easy to get rid of. He’s like a… skin tag.”

“Ew.” Alexis patted David’s leg over the blanket before she stood up. “I wish I could help you, David. But I have to go to work now and spend my day looking at Ted _not_ looking at me, so…”

“Have fun with that.”

“And you have fun doing _this_,” she gestured at the bed. “Or do the smart thing before Sebastien gets in town and find someone to stay with so you don’t have to look at his little rodent face again.”

David watched her as she opened the door. “He doesn’t have a rodent face…”

“Oh! Speaking of faces!” Alexis stopped in the threshold and turned. “What about Patrick?”

“What _about _him?”

“Maybe you could stay with him? He’s offered before, hasn’t he?”

David pulled the covers up until they were over his nose. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Fine. You just stay here and be miserable, then. Maybe you’ll stop showering again like you did after your last breakup and the smell will keep him away.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Bye, David!” she gave him one of her non-winks and left.


	3. Chapter 2

Patrick Brewer had just cataloged the last shelf of products in his inventory notebook when he heard the bell ding above the shop door. When he left the stock room and saw a very anxious David pacing about, eyeing the product he’d just put out, he was surprised to see that he’d showed up for work that day.

“I thought you needed to stay home,” he told him.

David placed his bag down behind the counter, clearly a bit frantic. “I thought I was going to,” he said. “But I couldn’t stay there.”

“Well it’s good to see you in.”

“Are these in order?” David asked as he approached the charcoal face masks. “First in, first out?”

“Obviously.”

“No, not obviously. It’s not obvious. Why do some of them have green labels and some of them have red labels? Are the red labels the new ones? Because if so, they’re all over the place.”

“The printer just had to use two different colors to get the order to us on time,” Patrick reminded him, certain that they’d already discussed this several days before.

“Well I don’t like that the pattern’s off. Can we put them in groups by color?”

Patrick met him by the little jars and began rearranging them, still keeping a wary eye on David. “Sure.”

“And did we change the signs on the blueberries?”

“You changed it yesterday,” Patrick said gently.

“Oh. Okay, yes I did.”

“Are you okay?”

David froze at the question, unsure how to answer. He knew he could be honest and tell Patrick everything, but he also knew that if he did, he probably wouldn’t stop talking. Or he could just say that he was fine, which clearly wasn’t true, and which Patrick clearly knew was not true, and they could spend a few hours being awkward around one another until David finally told him everything anyway. So he decided to cut out the middle man.

“I’m avoiding someone.”

Patrick’s brows furrowed, confused and a little worried. “Who?”

“An ex,” he said.

“You have exes here?” he remembered David telling him he’d only really dated twice, both disasters, but that thankfully the drama part was over.

“No, not yet. He’s coming in tomorrow, or so he says. But I think he’ll probably come in sometime today.”

Patrick couldn’t admit that it hurt him to think about David’s exes from the old days. He also couldn’t admit that he’d Googled David’s name right after they’d met and that he’d had to look at all the pictures of all the folks David had dated. Gorgeous. Wealthy. Wild. If nothing else, it had caused Patrick to ease up a bit on what he’d realized was flirting. It was unintentional, but it happened anyway. He couldn’t help it.

“Why do you think he’ll come in today?” Patrick asked cautiously.

“Because he does that. He does that. It’s just a thing he does.”

“So I take it this was not a good breakup?”

“There’s no such thing as a good breakup.”

“I disagree.”

“Not for me,” David asserted. “And this one was especially bad for reasons that don’t matter.”

Patrick knew better than to push it. “So you’re planning to hide out here?”

“For now,” David told him. “Until I find a better option.”

“Do you have a better option?”

David leaned his weight against the cash counter and watched Patrick finish organizing the masks by color. He went silent, thinking, before he answered.

“No. I guess I don’t.”

David thought about mentioning what Alexis had suggested. Not the part where Patrick would be his fake romantic partner for the weekend, but the part where he might stay with Patrick at his place. And Patrick thought about offering, but he’d offered before and been shut down. And besides, he still hadn’t told David that his place was really just a single bedroom he was renting from the man who’d hired him when he’d first come to town.

“Well here’s a thought,” Patrick started, setting the last bottle in place before turning, leaning his own weight against the table opposite David. “What if you just tell this guy you’re in a better place in your life right now, that you don’t have any interest in engaging with him while he’s here, and that you’d prefer he didn’t contact you while he’s passing through?”

“He’s not passing through.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s here for a job. Something involving my mother, but I don’t really know what that means. I have a feeling it’s a ploy to expose us in our current state to magazines and networks that have nothing better to do than revel in the misery of a family fallen from grace.”

The distant look in David’s eye stirred up something in Patrick that he couldn’t put a name to. A feeling of want, but that want just being to rush forward and hold David for a moment, apologizing for all the ways the world and everyone in it had done him wrong. But David had mentioned more than once that he wasn’t a hugger. And besides, the last time Patrick had hugged him, he had also wanted to kiss him. And he didn’t need to torture himself like that again.

“I’ll tell him,” Patrick said, sort of half-joking.

David smiled his appreciation. “I’ve got a long record of avoiding my problems for as long as possible before they blow up in my face,” he said. “So I think I’ll stick with that.”

Just as David spoke, the door opened again. This time it was Stevie, a welcomed sight by David. Surely she’d understand all of this. He could tell her everything about Seb. She might not want to hear the details, but she’d definitely know how to tell David some sad story of her own that might put his into perspective for a little while.

“You look awful,” she greeted David.

“Thanks.”

“He said you weren’t gonna be here today,” she said, nodding her head toward Patrick.

“I wasn’t going to be.”

“I should’ve texted you,” Patrick told her. “Sorry. I can do it myself now.”

“Do what yourself?” David asked.

“I was just going to have her help me watch the store while I ran to the bank,” he answered. “But now that you’re here, I can just have you do it.”

Stevie sighed, placed her hands on her hips, and stood next to David. “Honestly, I wish you’d give me something to do,” she told Patrick, then she looked at David. “Your mom’s driving me nuts.”

“Why?” he asked, but he feared he already knew the answer.

“I don’t know what her deal is, but we had some guy check in a few minutes ago, and she’s all worked up about it.”

David and Patrick looked at each other.

“Didn’t I tell you?” David said to Patrick.

“Why? Who is he?” Stevie interrupted.

“An ex,” Patrick offered, afraid David might offer much more information, and Patrick didn’t want to hear that again.

“Your ex?” she asked David. “Or… your mom’s?”

“What? No! Mine, obviously.”

“Oh. Well he’s driving her crazy. And honestly, he was driving me crazy, too.”

“Ugh,” David sighed, rolling his eyes. “Did he say something about Polaroids and nudes?”

Patrick stood up straight, taking it all in.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“That’s his line,” David said.

“Well it didn’t work,” She told him with a smile. “I don’t know why he thought it would.”

“Because he’s rich and hot and people don’t say no to him.”

“He’s not that hot,” she said. “He doesn’t know how to dress, he walks like he’s got a stick up his ass, and his face is sort of… I don’t know… rodent-like.”

“It’s not rodent-like.”

“Maybe you should just talk to him,” Patrick said at last. “Tell him what you’re feeling. I mean, it must have all been a long time ago, right? Maybe he’s a different person now.”

“You heard us about the nudes, right?” David asked.

Patrick nodded. “Maybe you’ll feel better just saying it all anyway. Sometimes it feels good just to speak your truth.”

David smirked, closed his eyes, shook his head a little. “Maybe. But right now, I just need to not be at the motel.” He moved away from the cash counter then and disappeared into the stock room.

Patrick stood there for a moment with Stevie, who was clearly avoiding doing anything at all, and he supposed he could understand. He sort of wanted to follow David to the back and talk about it some more, but he knew this wouldn’t be helpful. David needed space. Patrick could see that.

“I should get back,” Stevie said at last. “Have fun with _that_.”

“Have fun with your thing, too,” he smiled.

“And hey, let him know that if he needs a place to stay, he can stay with me. But not tonight. I have plans tonight.”

“I’ll let him know.”

Stevie thanked him as she left, and Patrick considered the situation before he decided to check in on David, who had by now been back in that room for close to ten silent minutes. When he walked into the room, he found David seated on the floor, which is a very not-David thing to do, and he sat beside him and waited while David found the words to tell him exactly how desperate he was to not have to go through this right now.

“How easy do you think it would be to fit an air mattress back here?” David asked at last.

Patrick smiled. “You might be able to fit one. But you’d have to find a good one first.”

“Do you think they sell any in town?”

“If they did, we’d be the ones selling it.”

David thought for a moment. “We should sell air mattresses,” he decided.

“David, if you need a place to stay, you know you can stay with me.”

David looked beside him at Patrick. He shook his head. “You don’t need to offer,” he said.

“I’m not offering. I’m telling you. You’re staying with me this weekend, okay?”

He smiled. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll take you home to pick up some stuff after work, then we’ll get to my house. I’ll keep my eye out for any rodent-faced guys, and if I see one, I’ll tell him to leave you alone.”

“He’s not rodent-faced.”

“And then we’ll go to my place, we’ll watch TV or something, and we’ll get your mind off of him.”

David looked back down at the floor, dropping his knees so that he now sat cross-legged. “I take up a lot of space,” David told him.

“Well I don’t. So it’ll be a perfect fit.”

“Thank you, Patrick.” He leaned over briefly, nudging their shoulders together.

“You’re welcome, David,” he grinned. He was grateful for the touch, however little of it there was, before the door bell sounded again, and he was on his feet answering it.


	4. Chapter 3

It’s hard to say whether David or Patrick was more grateful that they didn’t run into Sebastien at the motel. David had been able to go through his room packing a couple of bags for the weekend, and Patrick was able to see where David had been living for the past three years. It was a far cry from where he’d lived all his life previous, but Patrick could still see touches of the past in here. Like David’s bedsheets, David’s eye cream on the nightstand, David’s cologne, imported, David’s closet full of clothes. And Alexis had some things in here, too, that were from the old days, but Patrick paid far less attention to those for some reason.

Patrick found himself running one hand along the pillow before he stopped himself. He was being ridiculous, like some twelve-year-old kid in his best friend’s sister’s room. Like he’d never had a crush before the one he had on David. Like he didn’t know how to conduct himself. He silently admitted his amusement at the way David rushed around the room, finding this little that, placing it in its exact compartment within his bags. At the way David mumbled to himself about which outfits to bring, even though they all looked the same. And now he was realizing that David would be changing in his room, which would mean that at some points throughout the weekend, David would be naked in his room. And the thought was almost too much for him even now as David looked him in the eyes, breathed a sigh of relief, and told him he was all packed.

Patrick helped him with one of the bags, placing them both in his trunk while he drove David the entire three blocks to where he was staying.

“Did you leave something here, or…?” David started, looking up at the building where he and Patrick had first met.

“Um, no. So…” Patrick shut off the car. “I still sort of live here.”

David went silent, then remembered how to speak again a moment later. “You live with Ray?”

“I rent a room from him,” he said. “But it’s a very spacious room, and the bathroom is right across the hall.” And he knew now that he’d blown it. The only way David could be less impressed with him would have been if he could see how little was currently in Patrick’s bank account.

“Wow,” David said. “I might actually pity someone else’s living situation more than my own.”

Patrick laughed a little, allowing himself to since David was, and they left the car. “I’ve gotten to know his routine, which is helpful,” Patrick said. “He’s downstairs from nine to five every day, checks in on me for dinner – which I’m obligated to eat with him, by the way – and then he watches TV in the living room after dinner until ten. Then he goes to bed and generally doesn’t bother me until he comes in my room in the morning to see what I want for breakfast.”

“Well I suppose it’s helpful to know his schedule.”

“And he’s gone all day on Saturday. That’s when he shows houses, does his nature shoots, whatever else. So that’s something you can look forward to.”

“Mm, I am.”

Sure enough, they stepped inside and immediately met Ray, who looked only too happy to see David’s face.

“I will set another plate for dinner!” he greeted them, never bothering to ask if David was staying.

“Uh, Ray, David’s going to be staying here for the weekend,” Patrick explained. “Did you have anyone booking the room next to mine for the Airbnb thing?”

“No, this weekend I surprisingly did not have any reservations.”

Patrick knew this wasn’t surprising. In the six months he’d lived here, no one had ever rented the room.

“Great, well if David could have it, I’ll cover the expenses.”

David felt a strange sort of pain at hearing this, which confused him. Yes, he’d love to have a bedroom all to himself. But at the same time, he’d spent the last three whole minutes getting used to the idea of staying with Patrick, and he’d become quite favorable to that option in those three minutes.

“Unfortunately, I have converted that room into a storage room for the time being,” Ray told him. “But I do have a very comfortable couch available between the hours of 10PM and 7AM for a reasonable price.”

“No, no,” Patrick insisted, his hand on David’s back for comfort, perhaps. “He can stay with me. I just thought I’d check to see if the option of a second bedroom was available.”

“Well of course it is.”

“Tonight.”

“Oh, then it’s not.”

“Great.” Patrick motioned for David to follow him up the stairs, and Ray called out a reminder for dinner.

“This is me,” Patrick announced at the door to his room. “Prepare to be impressed.”

David smiled. “I assume there will be the usual amenities? Hot towels, complimentary chocolates?”

“Towels in the shape of swans?” Patrick added.

“Of course.”

Patrick opened the door, and David followed him in. Sure, the room was fairly spacious as Patrick had told him it was. But it was also decked out in floral wallpaper, which wasn’t doing it any favors, and a series of furnishings that looked somehow overstuffed and severely uncomfortable at the same time. The bed was a double, which David was grateful for, and the room smelled like Patrick. He sort of loved it.

“So you can shower before me tonight,” Patrick told him, nervously rearranging the things atop his dresser as if he worried they might not be organized to David’s liking. “I just suggest you finish before Ray goes to bed because if he catches you in the hall, he’ll talk your head off.”

“Noted.”

“The bathroom’s basically mine, though. Ray has his own in his bedroom, so at least you don’t have to worry about that.”

“I was a little worried, not gonna lie.”

“And you can have the bed, obviously.”

David wondered when he’d mention it.

“No, you take the bed,” David insisted. “It’s your room.”

“Yeah, but you’re my guest. My mom raised me well.”

David smiled. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

Patrick opened the closet and retrieved something from the top. “Sleeping bag over here on the floor,” he said. “I’m already used to it anyway.”

David wondered for a moment. “You sleep in your sleeping bag in here?”

“No,” Patrick chuckled. “I go hiking sometimes. On weekends when the weather’s nice, I camp out under the stars.”

“Sounds awful.”

“It’s not so bad,” Patrick answered. “But we should really get down to dinner if we don’t want Ray bursting in here soon to shoo us down there.”

David nodded, and as David joined him close to the door to leave, he spoke.

“Thank you for doing this for me.”

Patrick smiled. “Hey. No problem. Happy to help.”

“No, but I know it _is_ a problem. You’re rearranging your whole life this weekend just to cram me in your only room. You didn’t have to do that.”

Patrick wasn’t sure what to say. So he just said, “I know.” And he wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted to say, but that’s what came out.

Dinner wasn’t so awful, even if David wasn’t sure this really was lamb that he was eating and preferring not to know in the end. Ray was a surprisingly good cook, even if this thing he’d made was slightly overseasoned. Still, the wine was good (a gift from a grateful client, he learned), and he didn’t have to clean up after. Two wins.

“Would you boys like to watch _Ghost Hunters_ with me?” Ray asked after they’d finished. “I believe they’re investigating an abandoned asylum tonight. And if you’re thinking ‘I think I’ve seen one where they investigated an asylum,’ you probably have. But this one is a new one, or so the guide says, so I’ll be watching it. And let’s be honest, I would watch it even if it was a rerun.”

“No thank you,” they answered in unison.

“Oh well, more for me.”

But that didn’t make sense, and David mentioned as much when they reached Patrick’s room again.

“How is it more TV for him if we’re not watching? Does he think some of us get TV and he gets less somehow?”

“I’ve stopped thinking about what he says,” Patrick answered, closing the door behind him.

“Wise.”

David realized they were alone in Patrick’s bedroom now, the door closed, a single bed in the room. And for the first time in his life, no sexual expectations. It was refreshing for a moment before it was unfortunate.

“So what do you want to do?” Patrick asked after David had been silent for a minute.

“What do _you_ want to do?”

“Do you like board games?” he asked. “Because there’s a whole bunch of them downstairs. Or we could watch something.”

David considered the TV option for a moment, but then opted against it. “I like board games.”

“What’s your favorite? Guarantee he’s got it.”

David stared into Patrick’s eager eyes, and they looked green right now. He could swear they were brown. Did they change, or had he not noticed them until now? And then he realized he was looking, and he snapped out of it long enough to say, “Surprise me.”

Patrick left, and David found his way to the bed. He sat there on it, took his shoes off, and tucked his feet under him as he sat with his back to the headboard. This is where Patrick slept each night when he wasn’t sleeping under the stars, which David thought was, while utterly ridiculous, also somehow completely charming. He ran one hand along the pillow beside him and wondered if that was the pillow Patrick used, or if it was the one he was sitting on. He wondered which side of the bed Patrick preferred, wondered if Patrick slept on his back or his side or his stomach, if he snored, if he talked in his sleep. He wondered if Patrick had ever had anyone in this bed with him, but he doubted it given the circumstances. He wondered if he’d ever know the answer to any of the other questions, but then he realized he would soon enough. The thought was terrifying.

“Battleship?” Patrick asked when he entered the room again.

David nodded.

Patrick settled on the other end of the bed, sitting similarly, and they played for the best out of three, which became best out of five, which became best out of seven before David had to admit defeat. Then it was late, and it was time for bed, and David showered while Patrick prepared the sleeping bag. Then Patrick showered while David conducted his nightly beauty regimen. They didn’t say much to one another as they turned out the lights closest to them and slipped under their respective covers. David was pleased to know that Patrick didn’t snore. But then, very few people are able to snore when they’re not sleeping at all.


	5. Chapter 4

“…Cinnamon rolls, apple crisp, waffles with blueberries or chocolate chips, whichever you boys prefer…”

David woke to the sound of Ray’s voice, far too loud, talking about food at too early an hour, which David didn’t know was possible.

“Ray, again,” Patrick voice spoke quietly. “Just keep it simple. David’s still sleeping, so if you could just leave until we come down there--”

“No, I’m awake,” David announced against his pillow. “Cinnamon rolls sound good.”

“Eggs?” Ray asked.

“Two. Scrambled, please.”

“Wonderful. And for you, Patrick?”

“Overeasy,” he answered with a resigned sigh. “And some rye toast.”

“I’ll have it ready in ten minutes. Just enough time for you boys to be dressed and presentable.”

When he left, David turned over to his back and stared at the ceiling.

“Sorry about that,” he heard Patrick say.

“It’s okay. At least I’m getting a meal out of it.”

He saw Patrick stand, stretching out on the other side of the room. He only wore a white tee and flannel pants, but damn if he wasn’t the most beautiful thing David had seen in a long, long time.

“Did you sleep okay?” David asked, propping himself on his elbows.

Patrick twisted his neck about until it cracked. “Mmhm. You?”

“Surprisingly well.”

Patrick found his outfit for the day, a simple blue sweater and jeans, and headed to the bathroom to change. When he was gone, David got out of the bed and found the clothes he’d brought with him. He undressed then stood in the bedroom for a moment in just his underwear. It was an incredible feeling to be here like this, so vulnerable and open, in the room of a man he had only just gotten to know. A man he was undeniably attracted to, though he was sure nothing would ever come of that. This was one of the quietest mornings he’d had in a long time, even with Ray’s interruption. It was then that he knew it wasn’t a matter of quiet, really. It was a matter of peace. And it was peaceful here.

“Are you decent?” Patrick asked through the door, knocking lightly twice.

“One second,” David answered. He dressed hastily and allowed Patrick back in.

“Smells like breakfast is ready.” Patrick found his shoes in the closet and sat in the chair to put them on.

“Well that’s good. I’m hungry.”

“I was thinking of walking to work today,” he said. “Since it’s so nice out. Wanna walk with me, or would you rather take my car?”

It was barely a mile to the store but David still considered it before he answered. “We can walk,” he said finally.

Patrick smiled. “Nice.”

Nice? David hardly thought this was an occasion to use the word “nice.” But for Patrick, he allowed it. He also put his shoes and as soon as they both were ready he followed Patrick down the stairs to the modest kitchen where Ray had laid out all the foods David had heard him mention and more.

“I couldn’t remember who wanted what, so I just made everything,” Ray said as chipper as always.

David smiled. “I think we call this a happy accident.”

“How did you boys sleep? Well, I hope?”

“Very well, thank you,” Patrick answered for the both of them as he noticed there were no eggs at all so he put a waffle on his plate instead.

“I don’t usually wake up so early, though,” David told them both honestly. He realized then that he should care more that Patrick saw him before he’d styled his hair or moisturized but he didn’t care at all. “Next time, a warning knock might be nice, Ray.”

“He knocked,” Patrick told him.

“I knocked," Ray said.

“You knocked?” David asked.

“You were sleeping very heavily but Patrick looked uncomfortable and clearly hadn’t slept, so I thought it was time to ask about breakfast.”

David looked at Patrick. “Uncomfortable?”

“I was fine,” Patrick answered under his breath. “So Ray, are you still thinking of that chicken farm or…”

“Oh yes,” he said, pouring coffee for all of them. “But I think I’m going to wait until spring.”

“That’ll give you plenty of time to get everything ready,” Patrick nodded. “And don’t forget to call me if you need help.”

“Are you sure you slept okay?” David asked Patrick, wanting to be sure. He didn't want him to be uncomfortable in his own bedroom.

“I am sure I’ll rely on your vast experience,” Ray answered. “David, how are your grapes?”

“Very crisp,” David answered. He faced Patrick again and asked, “You do look kind of stiff. Are you sure the sleeping bag was good enough?”

“It’s fine, David. I’m fine.”

And as soon as Ray was back on about the chickens, as soon as Patrick engaged, David knew he wasn’t going to get an honest answer.

Breakfast was over and Patrick helped Ray clear the table before he and David decided to head out to work. The weather was pleasant enough and David couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to sleep in a comfortable bed, had been fed healthy, scrumptious food, and then voluntarily walked to the next destination. Actually, he couldn’t remember if he’d ever done all those things within the same morning, but this wasn’t the day to think about that.

“So do you think he’ll be looking for you?”

David looked beside him at Patrick. He almost asked who Patrick meant, but then he immediately remembered. “I think it’s probably the main reason he came here.”

“To find you?”

“To see how bad off I am these days,” David clarified. “To rub it in my face how well he’s doing then immediately compare it to how terrible my life is.”

Patrick’s heart sank. “Is your life so terrible?”

“Compared to the old days?” David started. “In reality, not at all. But on the surface, very much so. And Sebastien’s never been concerned with looking at anything deeper than the surface.”

“Sebastien,” Patrick echoed his name. “I’ve never known a good Sebastien.”

“Neither have I,” David said. “So I guess we can conclude that none exist.”

“I guess we can,” Patrick smiled.

They walked a couple blocks more, the store now in sight.

“So what’s your plan if he does come around?” Patrick asked. “Because with the windows, you know…” he pointed at the store as if David wouldn’t know. “He’ll be able to see you’re in there.”

David was silent for several steps as he thought. “I don’t know,” he said at last.

“Well like I said, I can talk to him for you.”

“No,” David insisted. “You can’t reason with someone like him.”

“So you’re just going to avoid him? You’re just going to hope he doesn’t pull all this again in the future?”

“You don’t get how it is,” David explained. “And it’s great for you that you don’t. I’m just very bad at making up excuses and lying. And even if I was a great liar, he’d know I was lying.”

“Lying about what?”

“That I’m in a relationship! Because I sure as hell can’t let him know I’m single. When I’m single, he’s relentless. The second I’m in a relationship, he doesn’t care anymore. He’s too lazy to compete with anyone, but if he knows I don’t have a good reason not to be with him, he’s going to break me down until I give in.”

“Is he that irresistible?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“So you’re over him," Patrick stated, hoping that it was true.

“I guess,” David answered with a small shrug.

“So can’t you just say no? Isn’t that a good enough reason for him to back off?”

David seemed ashamed, embarrassed. “He’s hard to say no to.”

“Again. Why?” Patrick asked still confused.

“I don’t remember,” David said again, smiling now. “I know it all sounds ridiculous but that’s just how it is. And if I’m right and he does come looking for me here, you’ll see him and you’ll get it.”

He spoke just as they found the store, and as he opened the door and they entered, Patrick wondered exactly what he would say if Sebastien did come in that day. Would he lecture Sebastien about personal space and backing off? Would he be charmed the way David apparently was and become the next victim of Sebastien’s notoriously aloof ways? He didn’t know, nor could he begin to imagine anyone who could charm him enough to veer his attention from David in any way at all.

They conducted their morning as usual. David didn’t talk about Sebastien anymore and Patrick was grateful for that. A couple of customers came and went, and Patrick noted the wide-eyed wariness on David’s face every time the bell sounded. But if David wasn’t going to bring it up then neither was Patrick. Every few minutes he would catch David glancing out the window looking to see, and Patrick sometimes wondered if he_ wanted_ to find Sebastien. That made Patrick a little more anxious himself, like secondhand anxiety, and now he almost wanted to see Sebastien too. Just to see what all the fuss was about. Just to see if he could see what David apparently saw.

But fuck this. Fuck Sebastien and fuck looking for him. It was noon now and Patrick was hungry.

“Hey, how would you feel about running down the street and grabbing lunch for us while I count up the cash for the midday deposit, huh?”

David looked up from where he was reorganizing the tea for the fifth time. “Now?”

“Yep.”

It was then that David realized he’d been obvious. A rare moment of self-awareness. “Okay,” he gave in. “What do you want?”

“The usual,” he told him, fishing cash from the pocket of his jeans. “And some tea would be nice.”

David left and Patrick stood with his hands on the edge of the counter taking a deep breath in as he composed himself. He didn’t know Sebastien but he thought that maybe he hated him just for having this kind of control over David. Or maybe it wasn’t control. Maybe it was just that Sebastien represented everything David didn’t have anymore and maybe David did want that old life in the exact way he’d claimed he didn’t want it anymore. Maybe David lied to him. Maybe this life, the business, and everything in this town was pushing David closer and closer to a desire to leave and go back to it all if he could.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? That was the thing that Patrick hated about this man he’d never met. That the mere thought of him could bring it all out in David and have him craving a life that wasn’t good for him even if it was sometimes good _to_ him. And David was too damn important to him for Patrick to let Sebastien swoop in and take David away again. Even if he wasn’t going to take David away physically. But to take him away from the place he’d created in his mind – a place that welcomed him and loved him and made him a better person. No, Sebastien didn’t get to take him from that. Not after everything David had become in those few years before Patrick met him.

He heard David return not too long later and when he saw him, he immediately knew something was wrong. He didn’t have to ask what it was. David’s panicked expression was amplified as he set the bag of food and tray of drinks on the counter.

Patrick looked behind David and just ten feet outside the door stood a man so fashionably handsome in a homeless sort of way that Patrick knew who he must be. He nodded toward him as if to ask for David’s confirmation and David nodded to affirm that it was indeed him. And when the man walked inside, Patrick just watched as David stood as if nailed to the ground.

“David,” Sebastien spoke. “So good to see you.” He leaned in for a very pretentious double kiss, and Patrick couldn’t tear away his gaze. “You look… healthy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you a million times over to bellafarella for lending a very helpful second set of eyes to this!


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i guess i'm spitting these out faster than one a day because i just don't do homework anymore apparently

Patrick didn’t see it.

He didn’t see what it was about Sebastien that David found so irresistible or so impossible to deny. He didn’t see what Sebastien had that Patrick didn’t, besides perhaps those classic good looks, a few additional inches in height, and maybe – definitely – money. But he didn’t know David the way Patrick knew David, and he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d take David in when he was hiding from an ex. He definitely didn’t appear to have any love at all in his eyes when he looked at David. Even when Patrick wished he didn’t sometimes, he knew that he looked at David the way David deserved to be looked at. Sebastien didn’t do that and that might have been the worst part of it all.

“I’m Patrick,” he announced, his voice breaking a little. When he did so he cleared his throat.

“Patrick,” Sebastien echoed, looking him up and down slowly in a way that made Patrick feel filthy. “What’s your story? I’d love to hear you tell it to me beside a fire on the Cliffs of Moher.”

“It’s a very short story,” Patrick answered plainly. “I’d probably get the whole thing out before you lit the first match.”

“Matches,” Sebastien said shaking his head as he looked over at David again. “So… ordinary.”

Patrick shrugged.

“Boyfriend," David spoke at last.

They both looked at him now and David took a step closer to Patrick. “This is my boyfriend,” he told Sebastien.

Sebastien looked at Patrick again then back at David. “If you say so,” he smirked, clearly skeptical.

“Well he does say so,” Patrick said, his arm slowly reaching around David’s waist. “Because it’s true.” He immediately wished he’d had a better comeback, but the whole boyfriend thing was a lot to take in.

“If you say so,” Sebastien repeated himself but this time to Patrick.

There they were, the three of them just sort of standing there, and all David had said this whole time was a singular lie that, despite Patrick’s semi-convincing aid, wasn’t altogether believable.

“I guess I’ll see you tonight,” Sebastien told him. “I got a room at the motel. Room 3, if you’re interested.”

“I’ll be staying with Patrick tonight but thanks so much," David said with his eyes squinted in that way he does when he's annoyed.

Patrick, well aware that David was going to be staying with him that night, felt as if he’d just heard some salacious secret of which he was now privileged to be a part.

“Well…” Sebastien let the word drag on a little. “Your mother told me about the shop so I thought I’d come check it out.”

Patrick watched the way David watched Sebastien as he scanned the room. It was clear that for some reason David still sought his approval.

“It’s cute,” was all he said.

“We’re very proud of it," Patrick said since he knew for a fact that wasn't an actual compliment, but also because it was the truth. They were very proud of the store. They'd worked very hard on it.

Sebastien nodded, placed his hands deep in his eight-hundred-dollar pockets, and looked at David again. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again before I leave town but I need to go now. I’m trying to capture your mother’s essence while the sun fades over the horizon. I feel like that could translate into something wonderful and haunting. Something that will impress an audience.”

At the mention of his mother, David was particularly alert. “She’s under the impression you’re flying her off someplace for the photos.”

“Oh, I might,” he answered unconvincingly. “But it’s important I extract all I can while I’m here.”

Patrick could feel the agitation in David so he held him a little closer. “Well it was nice meeting you, Sebastien,” he offered. “Hope you enjoy our little town.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll make the most of my time while I’m here,” he said. “And David, you know where to find me if you want to catch up.”

They watched Sebastien leave too slowly, clearly giving either one of them a chance to say something more in that cinematic fashion it seemed he favored. Finally, he was gone not a moment too soon, and David let out a long breath that it seemed he’d been holding in since he saw Sebastien outside just a few minutes before. Patrick’s arm was still around David’s waist, he didn’t want to move it, so he didn’t.

“Are you okay?” he asked David, his thumb moving up and down against David’s sweater slightly, slowly, comfortingly.

“That could have gone worse, I guess.”

“Could’ve gone a lot worse,” Patrick agreed.

“Sorry about the whole boyfriend thing. It just came out."

“It’s fine,” Patrick told him, and for some reason, he was no longer comfortable having his arm around David. He moved it away then moved himself away too. It was too much for something that wasn’t even close to being real.

“At least it’s all over for today,” David said and it seemed he truly did feel some relief at this. Patrick was pleased to know that David could breathe again, but he knew that this was going to be an uphill battle. “Do you still need to go make that deposit?”

“Oh,” Patrick remembered. “Yeah. I didn’t even count up yet but I can do that real quick.” He moved around to the other side of the counter, behind David now, and he began to count through the bills while David looked at his cuticles.

“So you see what I’m talking about, right?”

Patrick stopped to remember the number he left off on. “I really don’t, honestly.”

“Well, he’s usually a lot more…” he searched for the words. “He’s more… I don’t know…”

“More what?” Patrick asked, not really caring. He went back to counting.

“He doesn’t give up that easily, I guess.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s not done with you yet.” He finished counting and placed the bills in an envelope. “People like him don’t know when to stop.”

As Patrick walked back around the counter, he stopped in front of David. It looked as though David wanted to say something.

“What?” Patrick asked.

“Nothing.” David shook his head.

“Something.”

David smiled a little. “I guess this kind of thing’s never happened to you, has it?”

“No,” Patrick answered truthfully.

“So I probably seem a little overdramatic?”

“No more than usual,” he winked. And when David smiled back, Patrick left.

The walk to the bank was a bit longer than the walk from Ray’s to the store or from the store to the Motel. It was a longer walk but one that Patrick needed most days. Walking had a sort of therapeutic effect on him so he could take his lunch with him most days and just sort of eat and walk and think, three things that he enjoyed doing very much. He thought about how afraid David looked in Sebastien’s presence and he wondered what was behind that fear. Was he afraid he’d give in and Sebastien would hurt him again? Probably. Was he afraid that Sebastien would end up not wanting him back at all? Also very likely. Was he afraid that Sebastien would want him, that he’d want to fall in love with him, that he’d take him back to that old life, and that David will have forgotten how to live like that and have to start all over again? Patrick didn’t even want to entertain that option.

Still, he didn’t think he’d ever understand their dynamic. From the very little he knew about Sebastien, the man was relentless and uncaring and David had a hard time rejecting him. But at the same time, there was something about Sebastien that Patrick could agree some might find attractive. Rodent face and all.

He was more than halfway to the bank before he realized he’d forgotten his wallet. He must have left it out on the counter when he was looking for cash for lunch. As he turned around to head back and retrieve it, he thought to himself how wonderful it is that this is the kind of thing that distracted him about David. These were good distractions. Being so concerned with David’s happiness that he forgot the simplest routines. Being so content with the way David felt beneath his fingers even just for those few moments that he couldn’t remember lessons he’d learned day one in business school. Getting so distracted by a pair of lips that he had to remind himself now that _he’s not really your boyfriend, you don’t get to kiss him._

He opened the door to the shop and spotted David in the corner, standing with his arms crossed defensively in front of him. Immediately after, he noticed the man standing with David. Sebastien was back, and Patrick wasn’t particularly happy about that.

He froze as both men looked at him. David’s eyes were clearly asking for a way out, but Sebastien's were saying that everything was fine, he had this handled. He didn’t know what about Sebastien worried him but something did. David had said he was over him, so confronting Sebastien might be good for David. And Patrick wasn’t jealous. What was there to be jealous about? The aforementioned looks, money, popularity, et cetera? Sure. But which one of them shared a room with David the night before? Which one of them would be sharing a room with him again tonight? It seemed all the money in the world couldn’t buy that.

“Forgot my wallet,” he announced, and he found it within seconds but he didn’t leave.

“David and I have a lot of catching up to do,” Sebastien spoke unprompted, flashing a smile as fake as Mr. Hockley’s loose-leaf tea. “I hope you don’t mind that I popped back in when I saw you leave.”

Sebastien clearly didn’t hope any such thing, nor did he care. But he was here, and David looked defeated over there in the corner. Patrick didn’t want to leave but he didn’t think staying would be much help. After all, weren’t they trying to convey security in their relationship? Weren’t they trying to show Sebastien that they were committed, happy, that David wasn’t with someone who controlled where he went and who he spoke to and what he did?

Or had Patrick just imagined they’d decided this? He honestly couldn’t remember if this was the idea David had come up with that day or if it was what he’d been wanting for months now, secretly and silently, every minute he spent with David.

“I don’t mind,” Patrick said finally. “But I forgot to ask you, babe…” he moved closer to David, his hand securely on David’s shoulder. “Did you say you wanted to eat dinner in tonight or go out?”

The corner of David’s mouth turned up into a smile. “In,” he said so quietly it was almost a whisper.

Patrick thought about kissing him for the third time that day, but he didn’t.

“Alright. I’ll call them and have our order ready to pick up.”

David nodded but Patrick still stood there, touching him.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he added before he leaned in to kiss David’s cheek. But David turned his head and met Patrick’s lips with his own. It was lightning fast, achingly chaste, a little awkward, and it was over all too quickly. Patrick pulled away, left, and hoped that it was enough.


	7. Chapter 6

When Patrick returned to the shop, Sebastien was gone. This was the good news.

But the bad news was on Patrick’s lips. He still felt it stinging on his skin reminding him that the kiss he’d been waiting his entire life for would be nothing at all, a split-second accident in front of another man. Not ideal, not good, not the best impression he’d ever made.

“Are you okay?” Patrick asked almost as soon as the door closed behind him.

“I think so,” David said. “He didn’t stay much longer after you left.”

“Well that’s good.” Patrick wondered if he should say something, but then he realized that David seemed just a little too occupied with the scarves. “Did he say anything… notable?”

David shook his head, finally looking at Patrick for the first time. “Not… notable, exactly. But he did insist I have dinner with him before he leaves, so I told him I would.”

Patrick clenched his eyes shut. “So the exact thing we were avoiding?”

“It happened so fast!”

“So fast that you couldn’t squeeze in the word ‘no’?”

“I’m sorry, but I was all disoriented from the kiss and Sebastien was looking all judgy and it just sort of happened.”

Patrick was so stuck on the “disoriented from the kiss” part that he forgave David in that moment for doing one of the stupidest things he could have possibly done. He was so stuck on it, in fact, that he forgot how to speak, but only for a minute.

“When are you supposed to do this dinner with him?”

“He said he’d keep in touch,” David said dismissively, waving his hand about as he returned to what he pretended was necessary work.

“So he’ll be back in here. A lot, probably.”

“He leaves Sunday night. That’s only three more days.” David turned around fully and faced Patrick, who now stood about five feet away from him. Close enough to really get a look at the earnestness in his eyes. Not so close that he’d be overcome with the temptation to kiss him again, but the right way this time. “Can we just be boyfriends until Sunday night?”

Patrick wanted to say that they could be boyfriends however long he wanted. Forever if necessary. Or even if it wasn’t necessary. They could be boyfriends for a few days longer than Sunday, or a few weeks, or however long it took for David to realize they didn’t need a time limit on it at all. But instead, he just said, “I guess.”

“You know, you really don’t get to be mad at me for getting caught making promises to him,” David added after a while. “You’re the one that saw us here and just decided to leave me here with him anyway.”

“David, you know I have to get the deposit in by two or else it registers a day behind. And when our profits register a day behind, it screws up our entire system.”

“I know, but I needed you to be here.”

“And I needed to make sure we made budget this week.”

“But I _needed_ you,” he repeated.

Patrick couldn’t look into David’s eyes like this and argue with his point. Maybe they were both right. Maybe David needed him and maybe Patrick needed to conduct his business. Maybe Patrick should have stayed. Maybe David should have told Sebastien to get fucked.

David went on with his work and Patrick with his. They were both silent for the hours afterwards; Patrick because he worried that saying anything would lead to saying everything, and David because he already felt pathetic enough without adding more complaints to the pile. When it was undeniable that there was nothing more to do around the store, and as those final few minutes to closing approached, Patrick spoke only to let David know that he was going to start counting up now, and David told him he’d go lock the door and sweep up.

Patrick tried not to be obvious the way he watched David retrieve the broom and use it intently around the place. Patrick finished counting, placed the money in the pouch he’d drop off the next day, and watched as David finished cleaning up. When it was over, and when David had returned the broom to its rightful place, Patrick spoke again.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

David leaned atop the cash counter, elbows parallel to Patrick’s hands. Here they were, close again. Here they were, David’s lips so gorgeous Patrick had to constantly remind himself not to stare at them. Patrick’s eyes so warm David wanted to live in them.

“It’s not your fault,” David answered. “You were always right. I’ll have to face him sometime.”

“Yeah. But you shouldn’t have to face him alone.”

David smiled. “You don’t mind helping me?”

“Have I ever?”

“Are you really ordering dinner tonight?”

“It’s _Café Ray_ once again, I think.”

David nodded. “At least we can always get a table there.”

Patrick stood up straight, no longer able to bear the presence of David so close to his own. “Ready to go home?”

They walked home in relative silence. It was colder now, a fact on which David commented more than once. It was a beautiful sight, the way the copper, lavender sky led the way back to Ray’s. They could both appreciate a horizon, a sunset, a cloud with or without its silver lining.

“Have you ever eaten sushi?” David asked as they now reached that last block home.

Patrick laughed. “What brings that to mind?”

“I don’t know. Thinking about sushi, I guess. And you don’t look like the kind of person who would ever try it.”

“Wow, that really makes me want to tell you how wrong you are…”

“So you have?”

“No,” Patrick answered with a smirk. “But not because I didn’t want to. I just didn’t grow up in an area where it was popular. I’m an inland guy.”

“I think I’m going to take you out for sushi someday,” David insisted. And before Patrick could even begin to question any of this, they were at the house.

Dinner was a turkey pate on a bed of mixed vegetables, and David found himself content with watching Ray and Patrick talk business while he tried to figure out how to eat a plate presented like this. Ray made a joke about ground mustard, Patrick found it hilarious, and David wished he’d caught the punchline. But then, David wished a lot of things. He wished he’d known that Patrick only meant to kiss his cheek, which was something he didn’t realize until much later as he thought about their kiss for the hundredth time. He wished he was strong enough to face Seb without needing Patrick’s help. He wished he had told Sebastien that he thought he might be in love this time, in love with a man who deserved it, a man who made him happy without trying too hard. A man that might not love him back that way, maybe wasn’t capable of that, but that deserved his love notwithstanding. He wished he could take Patrick upstairs and kiss him properly with no one staring at them. He wished there was a way to know if Patrick was ever going to be an option without asking him point blank, “Are you attracted to men or is this going to end badly for me, too?”

He might have been ashamed of how much he cared for Patrick if Patrick were a worse person. But for the first time, there wasn’t a shred of shame or a shadow of doubt that he felt what he felt, and it was worth it, whatever happened.

They eventually found themselves free to go upstairs. Patrick worked on some sort of graph on his laptop while David watched a rerun of _Moonstruck_ until he started dozing off. He offered Patrick the shower first that night so that he could finish the movie, and Patrick was only too happy to get it over with. After all, he was exhausted from his lack of sleep the night before, so the sooner he could get back into his sleeping bag and try to get some shuteye, the better. When Patrick was done, David rushed through his shower and hurried to the bedroom to get to sleep. Even if he’d gotten more sleep than Patrick, he had found the day exhausting. He couldn’t wait to get through his necessary process and go to sleep.

David placed the moisturizer under his eyes, his fingers moving in small circles the way he’d found most effective for an even application. But while he looked in the dresser mirror, he could see Patrick behind him rolling out the sleeping bag in that same spot on the floor where it had been the previous night.

“No,” David said softly. “You’re not sleeping on the floor again.”

Patrick looked up at David’s reflection. “Obviously I am.”

“No,” he repeated, smiling a little now in amusement as he walked toward the bed. “Maybe you don’t want to tell me the truth, but I know Ray wouldn’t lie. You barely slept at all last night.”

Patrick stopped just as he had flattened the sleeping bag on the floor. “I told you,” he said. “I was fine.”

David pulled back the duvet. “I’m not hearing it,” he insisted. “You’re sleeping in the bed. Come on.”

“With you?” Patrick asked, a little hesitant even as he joined David near the bed. “That’s not weird?”

“We kissed today, Patrick. I think we can share a bed.”

Patrick watched silently as David slipped into the covers. “It wasn’t a real kiss,” he mumbled.

“What?” David heard him, but he had to wonder what Patrick meant.

Patrick only lent him a side-eyed glance.

“Did you say it wasn’t a real kiss?”

Patrick finally entered the bed and pulled the covers up to his chest. “Yeah,” he answered. “I did. It wasn’t.”

“It was a real kiss. Maybe not a good one, but a real one. Lips, lips, smooch, smooch.”

“No smooching,” Patrick reminded him. “I didn’t even mean to get your lips. I was going for your cheek, and you ruined it.”

“I ruined it?” David scoffed. “Me? You’re the one that didn’t even pucker!”

“And now you think I’m a terrible kisser!” Patrick was laughing a little now at the ridiculousness of it. “But I’m not! And since that was your impression of the way I kiss, and since that impression was _way_ off, it doesn’t count as a real kiss.”

“But--”

“End of argument.”

David tilted his head and regarded Patrick for a moment. “Fine,” he agreed at last. “It wasn’t a real kiss.” And this isn’t a real relationship, and Patrick’s not his real boyfriend, and the end of the day was starting to make the whole day crumble to pieces. “You win.”

Patrick could swear that there was some indication of sadness in David’s eyes, like he wanted that to be a real kiss or something. But it wasn’t real. Patrick stood by that. None of this was real.

They shut off their lights and sank into the blankets, their backs to each other. They offered one another a half-hearted goodnight but ultimately each lay on their sides thinking about how messy this had all become. Patrick thought about what he’d have done if he had known it would be a real kiss, how he might have kissed David right if he’d been given the chance. How he would have taken him in his arms and looked him in the eyes and said it all without words while he leaned in. He would have told David he thought he might be in love with him, that he had David to thank for everything he’d learned about himself these past few months. For making him brave enough to let himself acknowledge what he always knew to be true but could never admit. Thank him for the fact that for the first time in his life, he had found someone he wasn’t afraid to be himself around. He’d found someone who was truly, deeply good and caring and that he could love for as long as David would let him.

He might even have told David that when this weekend was over, he’d probably sleep on that pillow beneath David’s head for a while so he could smell him until the scent wore off. He might tell him that the warmth radiating from David’s body under these covers made Patrick want to wrap himself up in him, that the temptation to pull him close this very second was almost impossible to face. He might have told David that he hoped they’d have that real kiss, they’d have a real love, they’d have the bed to themselves all weekend so _let’s just fucking do this, David, let’s fall in love while there’s no reason not to._

But instead he fell asleep facing the wall, thinking silent thoughts that would never come to light. Not as long as David’s mind was on anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to bellafarella for being my beta!


	8. Chapter 7

Patrick woke on his back, David beside him, the sun shining through the slit in the blinds just bright enough to wake him. David was still sleeping, but he began to stir as Patrick attempted to leave the bed.

“You snore,” he heard David say.

He looked over his shoulder at David and smiled. “You kick.”

“Well you were getting in my personal space,” he answered playfully, closing his eyes again.

“Oh, well maybe if you weren’t hogging all the blankets, I wouldn’t have had to move closer.”

“It’s pretty standard to bring your own blanket to a sleepover,” David answered.

“Excuse me, but whose room are you in? Whose sleepover is this? Whose blankets were you hogging?”

“I’m sorry, but when you insist I take the bed, they become my blankets.”

Patrick looked at David until David opened his eyes and looked back at him, too. Patrick wondered how many people had looked at David like this. How many had seen him at this hour? How many knew what he looked like with sleep still in his eyes, his hair still askew, wrinkles pressed against his cheek from lying against the pillow?

And David, looking up at Patrick now, felt he could stay in this bed for a lot longer. An hour, maybe. A year.

“Did you sleep any better last night?” he asked Patrick.

“Best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

David smiled. “Me too.”

“Good morning, boys!”

And just like that, the moment was over.

“Good morning, Ray,” they both spoke together.

“Today, I have turkey bacon, turkey sausage, pancakes, eggs, waffles, cream corn casserole, which is not strictly a breakfast dish but does need to be finished before it goes bad, and a selection of fruits from the Currie’s garden.”

“Pancakes,” David requested. “And a sprinkling of those fruits might be nice.”

“Perfect. And for you, Patrick?”

“Let’s try eggs again,” he answered.

“Alright, I will get that started and come back when it’s finished.” He left the door wide open when he left, and David sat up and looked at Patrick, who was now walking to the closet to find his clothes.

“How do you live with that every day?” David asked in a low, soft voice.

“You get used to it,” Patrick shrugged. “Ray’s a good guy. He just really likes to chat.”

“I see that.” And maybe David felt grateful for this. If he knew that Ray was capable of barging in at any moment, he might be less likely to try initiating any physical contact with Patrick. Not like Patrick was looking for that, of course, but… well, theoretically, he supposed. Theoretically, a lot of things couldn’t happen. Or, theoretically, a lot of things _could_ happen.

_Not now, David._

“So I’ve been thinking,” Patrick spoke, interrupting David’s thoughts. “I think it’s best we have a plan before we head down there today. You know, something that we can rely on if your old friend surprises us again.”

David nodded his head, leaving the bed finally. “I agree. Did you have a…”

Patrick was removing his t-shirt now, slipping on a dark blue button-up shirt, working his arms through the sleeves.

“Did I have what?” Patrick asked.

“Hm?”

“You said, ‘Did you have a,’ and then you stopped.”

David nodded. “A plan,” he finished.

“Nothing specific, but I’ve got a few ideas,” he spoke casually, as if he shouldn’t have been aware of what the sight of his bare upper body was doing to David. “We can talk about it after breakfast.”

It wasn’t until then that he noticed David looking at him like that. He didn’t know what the look was, but it wasn’t one he’d seen before, and he couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. He couldn’t have known changing his shirt would have such an effect.

“Don’t like the shirt?” he asked.

“What?” David cleared his throat, centered himself, sat back down on the edge of the bed. “No. No, the shirt’s… nice.”

“Then what? ‘Cause I’m not wearing the t-shirt under it? I can’t with this one. It’s too tight.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

“Ah, so it’s the tightness you don’t approve of,” Patrick assumed, buttoning over his chest now. “Look, I’ve got big arms. It’s a thing.”

“Yeah, you’ve got nice arms.”

“_Big_ arms,” Patrick corrected.

“Nice, big arms.”

Patrick smiled, a little embarrassed. “I’m wearing this shirt today, David. You don’t have to like it.”

David might have tried explaining that this wasn’t the issue. That it wasn’t a matter of style, but of arms that looked they’d swallow him up in them if he gave them the chance. Arms that worked, had always worked, that looked good enough to eat, quite frankly. He might have said that Patrick was actually quite good-looking under the cotton blend shirts he wore (“more like cotton _bland_,” he’d once said), but then Patrick started to take off his pajama pants, and David found it necessary to excuse himself to the bathroom.

When David heard Patrick walk downstairs, and after he had dressed for the day, he joined Ray and Patrick at the table for breakfast. The pancakes were a bit dry, the fruit a bit too ripe, but he was happy to be in their company and have his mind taken off Seb and put somewhere where the thoughts were happy thoughts, peaceful thoughts, thoughts of Patrick with his shirt off, which was a thought he thought he’d save for the next time he could get a few minutes alone somewhere. He helped clear the dishes this time, too, because listening to Patrick talk about cost-effective, environmentally-friendly dishwasher detergent wasn’t something David knew he was into, but he was into it.

“Oh,” Patrick remembered, turning to David now. “We should make our plan.”

“What kind of plan?” Ray asked.

“A thing for work,” Patrick told him, realizing he probably shouldn’t have brought it up around Ray.

“Well just in case you two hadn’t heard yet, I have been considering opening my office doors, as well as my heart and mind, to those seeking professional business consultation.”

“It’s not that kind of a work thing, Ray,” Patrick told him, his hand to David’s back as he rushed him out of the kitchen. “See you at dinnertime.”

David hated to admit that Patrick was too much now. First kissing him (he had decided around six that morning that it was, in fact, a real kiss), then sleeping beside him, dressing in front of him. And now a hand on his back, still on his back as they hurried out the front door and started walking to the store.

“Let’s go on a date,” Patrick said once they were a safe distance away from the house.

David’s eyes widened. “A date?”

“Well, not a real date obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“But one that Seb can see without us seeming like we’re trying to get him to see, you see?”

“Too much seeing,” David said, his tone sickly, mocking.

“We know he’ll be hanging around the store waiting for one of us to leave so he can get you alone, right?” Patrick started excitedly, finally removing his hand from David’s back. “So at lunch we close up the store for an hour and go on a date somewhere close. Like the café, probably. Actually, I think that would be our only option.”

David didn’t know why Patrick would suggest something like this, but he didn’t care.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“So you think it’s a good idea? He’ll really buy that we’re actually dating?”

“I think he will. But he’s smart, unfortunately. We’ll have to look like we’re actually, you know, in love and stuff.”

Patrick swallowed hard, nodded. He wasn’t expecting those words to feel like that.

“And when he sees us, we should probably turn up the affection,” David said. “Maybe holding hands while we’re walking?”

Patrick reached for David’s hand. “Seems logical.”

David took his hand, held onto it for dear life even while they were too far from anyone’s eyes for it to matter. He held onto it while Patrick told David that maybe the problem was that they needed to be more relaxed around other people, maybe call each other by a nickname, maybe stand a little closer to each other when they talked. Even if Sebastien wasn’t around them, Patrick said, because it might help them make it feel more realistic when he was. David still held onto Patrick’s hand when they approached the store and Patrick searched his pockets one-handedly for keys. Thing was, he didn’t want to let go of it. This had nothing to do with Sebastien Raine anymore.

“And if you’re going to kiss me again, make it a real kiss,” Patrick joked as he turned the key in the lock.

“I still say that one was real,” David insisted, not even trying to hide the smirk he wore. “But I get what you mean.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“You mean it’s not a kiss unless there’s tongue,” David said. And now they were getting into their routine, setting things up for the day’s business. “Which is bullshit, by the way.”

“No, that’s not what I meant at all!” Patrick answered back defensively. “I just mean that when it’s a real kiss, that means by its very definition that it’s premeditated.”

“Premeditated?” David laughed. “It’s not murder!”

“But it should feel a little like dying, shouldn’t it? If it’s a good kiss?”

David stopped to watch Patrick. They were on opposite ends of the room, and David had been lighting candles. He almost dropped the lighter.

Patrick, who was setting up the cash drawer, smiled back at him. “Well? Am I right or am I wrong?”

“You didn’t say it wasn’t a _good_ kiss,” David said at last. “You said it wasn’t a _real_ kiss. A real kiss doesn’t need to feel that way to be real.”

“Technicalities,” Patrick fired back.

David didn’t mind Patrick’s suggestions. That was an understatement. He didn’t mind standing a little closer to Patrick while they talked, while they waited for customers or one specific non-customer to drop in. He didn’t mind that they’d have a lunch date at the café – a date that Patrick insisted should look very real – or that people might see them holding hands, talking close, smiling, laughing together. He didn’t mind that there might be a reason to kiss Patrick again that day. He only minded that for some reason, a reason he still didn’t understand clearly, Patrick didn’t think that first one counted. But to David it did. To David, he’d been living these past few months just waiting for that kiss. And now it had happened. If nothing ever happened to him again, at least he could still think fondly on that kiss and be satisfied that it had occurred.

It was half past ten when he finally approached Patrick and asked him about it. Patrick was writing up orders for body milk and David was dutifully standing beside him, now leaning onto the table watching Patrick’s fingers curl around each bottle, check for the expiration date, and jot it down in yet another notebook.

“So if I was wrong about your reasons,” David started, “I think you should tell me why.”

Patrick looked briefly at him, confused, but continued his work. “What are we talking about?”

“The kiss,” David said.

Patrick froze for a moment, but then continued what he was doing. “Reasons?”

“Reasons why you think it didn’t count.”

“For what?”

“As a real kiss.”

Patrick made the last note on the last bottle, put it back in place, and set down the notebook. “I really didn’t think this was going to be an issue. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Well you did, so now I need to know why.”

Patrick smiled a little, but not the way he usually smiled at or about David. The smile was empty, cold, perhaps meaningless. There was nothing about it that David ever wanted to see again.

“Might not be the right time to talk about it,” was all Patrick said.

“Why not?”

“Because,” he began to say, but everything he wanted to follow that up with was too much, too revealing. Deep conversations, he decided, should be reserved for dark evenings alone on a mutual friend’s couch. The setting had to be exactly right for Patrick to say it. This wasn’t exactly the right setting.

“Because you’d never kissed a guy before that, had you?” David finished for him.

Patrick looked down at the surface of the table. “Nope.”

“And the first kiss wasn’t very good. And it wasn’t with someone you were attracted to. And it--”

“I just wasn’t ready for that to be my first kiss,” he said somewhat impatiently. “I figured when I had that first kiss, it would be under more… I don’t know… romantic circumstances.”

“Like being walked to your door after a date?” David suggested. “Telling him you had a wonderful night…”

“…Taking as long as possible to say goodbye because I want that kiss,” he continued, a real smile now slowly, _very_ slowly growing on his lips. “But not knowing if he wants to kiss me or say goodbye, so I’m waiting for him to tell me before I end up giving up. But then I turn away, and he…”

“…he says something like, ‘Hey, aren’t you gonna kiss me?’”

Patrick’s smile grew even wider. He nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Something like that, I guess.”

“And since you’re calling it your first kiss, you’re really saying your first kiss with a man.”

“Yes.”

“The first of many kisses with many men, I assume?”

Patrick laughed a little. “If that’s what it takes to find the right one.”

“Well maybe it would be easier for guys to kiss you if you told them you wanted to kiss them.”

“Yeah,” Patrick nodded. “I could work on that.”

The door rang, and David assisted the customer with her needs while Patrick took his notes to the stock room. For a moment, he braced himself against the wall and allowed himself to breathe. It dawned on him that he’d pretty much just come out to David. That David was the first and only person he was out to. And that maybe David’s purpose in his life wasn’t to be his romantic partner after all. Maybe it was just to help him find his way in the world, to be more honest with himself about who he was, and to be the person who showed him the path to self-acceptance. He loved David, he was attracted to David, but he thought now that maybe if all David wanted to be was his very helpful friend, that would be alright. And maybe that kiss did count. Maybe there was, in fact, one real thing happening between them, and maybe it was over now.

He waited until he heard the door ring again. The customer would be gone now, so he found it safe to return to where David was.

“What did she get?” he asked, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with David at the cash register.

“Three bottles of chardonnay and a roll of hemp toilet paper.”

“Sounds like a party,” Patrick said.

And then David’s hands were at Patrick’s hips, holding him there as he pulled him closer, David’s lips against Patrick’s, one hand moving up over Patrick’s back, his shoulders, settling on his cheek while David kissed him. This time it was slow and deliberate and made Patrick’s knees buckle a little, and when it was over, he couldn’t open his eyes for several seconds.

When he did, he was looking right into David’s.

“Was that real enough for you?” David whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Infinite shoutouts to bellafarella for her help and encouragement!!!


	9. Chapter 8

Patrick, frozen in place, stared into David’s eyes unsure what to say. That kiss had been perfect, had exceeded his expectations, had been everything he had always wanted in a kiss but never felt before. For the first time a kiss felt right, felt free of guilt or unease or uncertainty. For the first time he wanted a second kiss, a third, more, more, and more.

Yes, it was real enough for him but it was also almost too real, too much. A lot to process with little time to realize what was happening.

He opened his mouth to speak, closed it again. Smiled.

“So that was good?” David whispered, still waiting for some sort of confirmation.

Patrick nodded.

“Think he bought it?”

Patrick’s brows furrowed as he worked out what David was saying. “Who?”

“He’s outside,” David told him quietly. “But don’t look. Just keep it going.”

Patrick felt his heart fall to his feet. If he was speechless before, he was downright braindead now.

“So you kissed me because your ex is watching us?”

David immediately understood how this looked. No, he had kissed Patrick because he had wanted to kiss Patrick, but he might have chosen different circumstances if he hadn’t felt the pressure of Sebastien standing on the street just outside chatting up a random townie. He could swear Patrick had wanted to be kissed regardless of the circumstance but he wondered now if he’d done something terrible and overstepped. If he’d just ruined everything.

“Should I not have done that?” he asked.

Patrick took a small step back. “It was fine. A little warning might be good next time is all.”

“I’m sorry, Patrick.”

“It’s fine,” he repeated. “And here he comes, so you’d better go deal with him.”

David reached for Patrick’s hand as he left. “You’re not going to help me?”

Patrick carefully pulled his hand from David’s. “I’m not going anywhere, but I need to get some stuff done too.”

“What kind of stuff?”

Sebastien entered the store, shifted his sunglasses up into his unkempt hair, offered David a lopsided smile.

“Stuff,” Patrick answered. He left for the stock room.

David watched Patrick leave the room, wanting to chase after him and scream apologies for unknown sins but Seb was near him now, practically breathing down David’s neck before he started to speak.

“I’m about to meet your mother on the outskirts,” Sebastien told him. “I was hoping you could join us.”

“I have work,” David answered curtly, rushing to re-fold a stack of sweaters.

“Well I’m sure your partner wouldn’t mind letting you go for a while,” Seb countered. “You could show me around the town, maybe have a drink with me in one of these…” he paused dramatically as he searched for a word. “One of these charming little hasheries these sorts of towns are so well known for.”

“There’s just the one,” David told him. “And I can’t, I’m working.”

“Alright, so maybe I’ll pick you up after work then.”

“I have a date tonight.”

Sebastien smiled, and David knew he wasn’t buying it despite their efforts. Their tragic, painful efforts.

“Maybe you should tell him,” he started, resting his hand on David’s shoulder, “That you have every other night of the year to go on your date but you only have me here for this one weekend.”

David, caught between a rock and a hard place, couldn’t seem to answer.

“You know how good it was,” Sebastien continued, his voice low now, his hand moving up to caress David’s cheek. “You remember how free we were. You really want to give up a chance to explore our feelings because you feel tied to him?”

David thought for a moment. He wasn’t tied to Patrick. Not really. He wasn’t obligated to do anything at all with Patrick. He reminded himself that Patrick wasn’t really his boyfriend and that other than a rough and tumble history, there really was no reason at all not to “explore his feelings,” as Sebastien had put it. After all, not every aspect of their relationship had been bad. Some of it had been very, _very_ good.

“I don’t know,” He answered.

“Well give it a thought,” Seb told him, leaning in and kissing David’s cheek, then the other. “I’ve got to go. You know where to find me.”

David nodded as he watched Sebastien leave. He thought Patrick would probably come find him, but he realized after several minutes of waiting that he wasn’t going to, so David went to him.

When he pulled back the curtain, he found Patrick rummaging through papers in a box, possibly looking for some kind of document, possibly just trying to look busy. He must have known that David was there but he never acknowledged it.

“He’s gone,” David told him after a moment.

Patrick only nodded.

“He wants to take me out for a drink,” he added.

Patrick looked at him but he still didn’t say anything.

“I said I’d think about it.”

Patrick couldn’t look away from David’s eyes. He couldn’t do it for the sake of making a point and he couldn’t do it for the sake of conveying his feelings. He couldn’t look away, so he didn’t.

“I’m not going to,” David finished.

“I’m going to go to lunch now,” Patrick said at last, placing the lid back on the box and leaving the room.

David followed after. “Okay, well I’ll just close things up here and meet you in a few--”

“No,” Patrick interrupted. “I’m going. You’re staying.”

“I thought we had a date?” David smiled, hoping he came across as cute still.

“_You _might have a date,” Patrick emphasized. “But that won’t be for a while still, so you can stay here and keep things running while I go up to the café and grab a bite.”

“Are you mad at me?” David asked as Patrick’s hand gripped the door handle.

“I’m not mad,” Patrick told him calmly. “I’m just leaving.”

And before David could speak, Patrick was gone. 

Patrick had marched down to the café and walked inside, his head down to avoid eye contact with anyone who might have wanted to talk to him. He sat at the counter until Twyla approached him and he finally allowed himself to look up and speak just long enough to place his order.

“Just for you?” the waitress asked him. “Nothing for David today?”

“He can get his own lunch,” Patrick said perhaps a bit too harshly. “I’m dining in today.”

“Oh. Well I hope everything’s okay.”

Patrick glanced up at her. “Yeah, well… me too.”

“Uh oh.”

Patrick turned toward the voice speaking now. Stevie’s. He looked back at the counter. The last thing he needed was another reminder of David’s complicated past.

Stevie took the seat beside him and asked Twyla for a black coffee. Patrick knew that if there were anyone else in the whole town who might know how to move forward with David, it would be her. But then, nothing felt safe anymore and he wasn’t exactly looking to broadcast his feelings all over the place.

Stevie wrapped her hands around the mug and hovered over it for a moment. She closed her eyes, let out a long sigh. Patrick had to smile a little as he watched her.

“Things are still crazy down at the motel, I take it?” Patrick asked.

Stevie opened her eyes. “When is it not?”

“Mrs. Rose?”

“Mrs. Rose,” she answered, and she brought the mug up to her lips.

He didn’t want to ask, he wanted all of this over with but it seemed as though the opportunity was presenting itself and he felt it would be foolish not to say something.

“And her mousy little paparazzo?”

Stevie smiled. “Can’t fucking stand him. He’s one of those guys. To know him is to hate him, you know?”

“I knew I liked you,” Patrick nodded as Twyla placed his order in front of him.

“Why are you eating here?” Stevie asked. “Trouble in paradise?”

Patrick made a little noise, an attempt at being dismissive but she wasn’t buying it, and Patrick knew that.

“Can I you a question?” He said finally.

She sat up a little straighter. “Shoot.”

“Has he always been like this?”

She took another sip. “Has who been like what?”

“David. Has he always been so…” he thought for a moment then shook his head. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Oh,” she said, understanding a bit now what he was trying to say. “You mean does he always get all frantic when an ex comes to town?”

Patrick nodded.

“He’s never had another ex come to town,” she said. “But if you’re worried he’s like this in general, he’s not.”

“So I guess…” he thought aloud as he spoke, “… he’s just like this because he’s still got feelings or whatever.”

She huffed out a laugh. “No. He’s just being weird because of you.”

“Me?” Patrick asked, surprised. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. “I just mean he’s like this because he likes you so much. He’s probably worried that Sebastien guy’s gonna ruin the whole flirting vibe you guys have going on.”

Patrick tried to ask what she was talking about but everything came out as a stutter. Nothing landed. At a certain point, he wasn’t even sure what language he spoke.

Stevie just watched him, drinking, waiting for him to find it.

“What do you mean he likes me?” he managed at last.

“Well you know,” she explained. “He’s like in love with you.”

“What?”

Stevie paused even as the coffee rested on her lips, scorching hot. He really didn’t know.

“Okay,” she said, setting her mug on the countertop. “In my defense, we all thought you knew.”

“Who all?”

“Everyone,” she shrugged. “Like… hold on. Twyla?”

Twyla approached them.

“Twyla, isn’t David in love with Patrick?”

“Well, I should hope so,” Twyla said. “They’re dating.”

“We’re not dating,” Patrick corrected her softly.

“No?” she asked. “I could have sworn you two were dating.”

“They’re not dating,” Stevie confirmed.

Patrick placed his elbows on the counter and rested his face in his hands.

“Can I get another one of these to go?” Stevie asked Twyla.

Patrick tried to process it all. David liked him? _Loved_ him? No. This was too much. This was _way_ too much.

“So I haven’t helped you at all today, have I?” Stevie asked.

Patrick looked at her. “I have no idea.”

She moved in a little closer. “Can I ask _you_ something now?”

He only looked at her, silent confirmation.

“Do you like him? I mean, are you gonna be another sad story for him to tell the next person two or three years down the road?”

And suddenly he felt safe, like she understood the reasons he might not want to tell the world. Like maybe she understood exactly how he felt somehow.

“Yeah,” he answered, no attempt at hiding it. “I do. I like him.”

“So maybe you should tell him. I promise you it’ll get his mind clean off Sebastien.”

Patrick smiled as he rested his chin in one hand now. “I don’t think it will.”

“I promise you,” she repeated.

“We kissed,” he told her plainly. “I thought we were kissing because…” he shook his head, ashamed of himself perhaps. “I thought it was because we were having a moment, you know? But it was to show off in front of Sebastien.”

“Wait...” She gripped the edge of the counter. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah. We’ve been doing this whole ‘pretend boyfriends’ thing this weekend to try to get Sebastien to back off, but I don’t think he believes it. Or else he just doesn’t care if David’s with someone else.”

“I’d guess it’s the second thing,” Stevie said. “Just the impression I get.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“So… you kissed David?”

He smiled; he couldn’t help it. “Yeah. Couple times, actually.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And you think after kissing him that this is all just gonna go back to normal once that human paper straw flies back home?”

He hadn’t thought about that.

“Listen, you guys need to get your shit together,” she told him as Twyla brought her coffee over. “Because either you guys are gonna work it all out because of this or it’s all gonna fall apart, and I’ve seen David after everything’s fallen apart. I can’t see him go through something like that again.”

“But what if Sebastien makes him realize that he wants his old life back?” He asked, almost pleading.

“He doesn’t want his old life back. I think he’s happier now and I think he knows that.”

“But what if he’s still feeling something for Sebastien? What if they get together tonight and everything starts all over with them? What if whatever David feels about me or whatever he _thinks_ he feels for me doesn’t stick?”

She stood, coffee in hand, and just looked at him.

“Stevie,” he said, his voice quieter now. “What if it doesn’t work out?”

She put her hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, but… what if it does?”

She left the café, and Patrick’s barely-touched plate sat cold before him. He stared back at it before he asked Twyla for David’s usual order to go and once he had it, he headed back to the store.

David waited impatiently, only sort of half paying attention to the handful of customers who’d come through on the midday rush. He’d have been lying if he said he hadn’t been staring out the window ever since Patrick had left, hoping to catch a glimpse of him somehow but failing miserably. He’d also have been lying if he said he felt anything less than pure elation at the sight of the bag in Patrick’s hand. And Patrick, too, of course. But David was _very_ hungry.

Patrick set the bag on the counter in front of David. He said nothing.

“Thank you,” David told him.

Patrick returned to his work, whatever he’d been doing before with the box, and he thought about his next move. Was he still upset at David for promising to see Sebastien? Of course. Did it bother him that they might even see each other as soon as that night? Obviously. But was he incapable of thinking about anything at all for more than two seconds at a time right now while the thought that David might love him was still swirling around his brain? You be the judge.

He returned to the main room as David ate his lunch. He fiddled with a bottle here and there, pretended to examine a couple of labels on a couple of products. He avoided looking at David. He couldn’t do this anymore.

“So…”

David looked over at him. As soon as their eyes locked, Patrick forgot what he was about to say.

“Hm?” David asked.

“Nothing. Never mind.”

“Okay,” David answered. “Oh, we sold one of those hats you said we wouldn’t sell.”

“The ones Mrs. Greenbaum made?”

“Yeah, to a very enthusiastic customer who said it was the first hat big enough to fit over her hair.”

“Well that’s good.”

“Yeah.” David finished his lunch. The quiet was overwhelming. He started to drive himself crazy with the noise of his own chewing.

“So listen,” Patrick started. “Here’s the thing, I’m just gonna put it all out there.”

“No, before you do. I know what you’re going to say and you’re right.”

“You know what I’m going to say?”

“Yes. You’re going to tell me I need to take initiative, right?”

“Sort of,” Patrick answered. “Yeah.”

“So that’s what I’m doing. Sebastien is meeting me for drinks tonight.”

Patrick cocked his head to the side.

“I’m going to tell him that it’s not going to happen. I’m going to tell him that this is the last time he’ll see me whether he likes it or not.”

A skeptical Patrick crossed his arms. “Really?”

“Really.”

“And then what?”

Patrick finished his last French fry. “What do you mean?”

“What are you going to say to him when he doesn’t take no for an answer? Or when he convinces you that you actually _do_ want to see him again? Or when he gets you drunk and convinces you to go home with him?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“It’s not!”

Patrick considered David a moment longer. “Okay. Sure.” He turned around and pretended to arrange products again. “What time are you meeting him?”

“I’m going to go to the motel after work and change, and then I’m going to meet him at his room.”

“His room?”

“Only long enough to see where he wants to go.”

Patrick’s fists clenched. He pressed them into the wooden top of the table until his knuckles ached.

“There’s really only one bar in town anyway,” David continued, clearly oblivious to Patrick’s reactions. “So I guess we’ll end up there at some point.”

Patrick was well aware that there was only one bar in town. He’d gone with David to that bar a week after they’d decided to get into business together. That was where Patrick learned that David liked a good vodka pineapple. That was where he had gotten so entranced by David’s smile that he forgot the word “inventory.” That was where his knee had brushed up against David’s while they sat together on the same side of the booth and looked over their first vendor contract. That was where Patrick realized he was attracted to this man, attracted to _only _this man, and that he not only _wanted_ to kiss him, but he _needed_ to. That had been where David had laughed so hard at one of Patrick’s jokes that he almost choked on a piece of ice. But it was obvious David held no such sentimentality for the place. Another dagger in Patrick’s too-big heart. Another reason to believe that the gamble just wasn’t worth it, no matter the odds.

“Well, have fun,” Patrick told him. He relaxed his shoulders then opened his fists. He gave up control. This one was out of his hands.

It wasn’t as if David didn’t see it. He knew that Patrick clearly wasn’t Sebastien Raine’s biggest fan. But lots of people weren’t, and they went on living anyway. Hell, David wasn’t a fan either. But this was necessary. David was about 90% sure of that. Or… maybe 85%.

For the first time in a long time, they both dreaded the end of the workday. David, because he was about to have a very firm conversation with a very bad person. Patrick, because he was going home alone, and he hadn’t been counting on that.

They told each other goodbye as they left the store. David turned to the right and began his walk to the motel. Patrick turned left, heading home. David spent the walk thinking about what he’d wear. Patrick spent it wondering how long it would take Sebastien to convince David to go to bed with him. David decided to wear his best leather jacket, sleek and black and irresistible. Patrick decided to help Ray make dinner; chicken kabobs over an open flame and homemade pita bread. David would have liked this one.

Patrick watched the hours tick by, barely listening while Ray overfed him and told him about an auction house he planned to visit the next day after he showed a home to a young engaged couple. He assumed David wouldn’t be home that night because, well, why would he? He sat on the edge of the bed and switched on the TV and let it play some nonsense detective show, something overacted and terrible and easily ten years old. He straightened up the room, examined each of David’s personal care products that sat on the dresser next to Patrick’s single bottle of aftershave and the cheapest cologne the drug store outside of town sold. He’d bought it when he’d gotten off the plane at the Elmdale airport and still had a third of a bottle left. David had complimented it once. Patrick made a note to travel the extra distance to buy this brand whenever he did end up running out.

He ironed a shirt for the next day and hung it on the back of his door. He figured he’d probably beat David to the store for work in the morning if David even showed up at all so he also set a reminder on his phone to call their almond milk distributor and set up next week’s order. He showered and thought about David, about that kiss. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the kiss. He didn’t let himself think about what came after it. Just those moments when time stopped and every question he’d had about himself was answered in silence and warmth on the lips of a man he’d fallen hopelessly in love with at some point. He couldn’t remember when it happened exactly. Sometime between their first handshake and their first hug. Both very slowly and very suddenly he had fallen for the man. And maybe he should have wished he could undo it, but he didn’t.

He lay against the pillow David had used. He sank into it, his eyes closed. He wondered if he’d made a huge mistake offering David his place for the weekend. Or if his mistake had come long, long before that.

The door opened and he heard Ray’s voice reminding him that he was leaving early the next day.

“Okay, Ray. Thanks for letting me know.”

Ray left. The door was still wide open. Patrick couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Oh, and I won’t be making breakfast,” Ray said again, popping his head back in the room.

Patrick opened his eyes. “I know, Ray. That’s fine.”

Ray switched off the light but he still left the door open.

“Ray!” Patrick called, a mixture of exhaustion and frustration in his voice. “Can you close the door, please?”

But of course, Ray was never there when Patrick needed him to be. It seemed to be a running theme in his life.

It all hit him at once. Anger. Impatience. Frustration. The overwhelming desire to turn off his feelings just long enough to forget everything, long enough to fall asleep. He jumped out of bed and headed for the bedroom door, but when he reached to close it, he noticed a new figure standing in his doorway. A familiar one.

Patrick flipped the light back on. David stood before him.

“I didn’t think you were coming back,” he said.

“Is it okay that I did?” David asked. He stepped inside the room anyway.

Patrick closed the door. “Yeah. I guess.”

David peeled back his jacket, and Patrick stared at his arms. He wanted to be held by them and soon.

“How’d it go?” Knowing he should ask but not sure if he really wanted to know. 

David smiled a little, a sad, crooked smile that Patrick had seen too often before. “He didn’t show,” he said.

Patrick looked at the clock. David had been gone an awful long time for someone who was stood up. “You didn’t see him at all?”

“I did. I saw him in my room talking to Alexis. I told him I’d meet him at the bar, but he didn’t show up.”

Patrick felt relieved then immediately felt sorry for David. He wished he knew why.

“Probably for the best,” Patrick said.

“I think it was.” David sat and removed his shoes. “I was able to go back home and talk to my mom about it for a while. She’s a mess right now.”

“Because of him?”

“Because of all of it. Sebastien and everything he brings with him. All of it.”

“What do you mean?”

David rooted around a new bag he’d just brought with him until he found clothes to change into. “I think he’s trying to get some quick money selling pictures of her. She said he wasn’t being professional, and then…” he shook his head. “I just know what he’s like. This isn’t about art to him.”

“Is someone like him so desperate for money?”

“I don’t even think it’s that,” he told Patrick. “It’s personal. It’s about me.”

Patrick sighed. “Well at least you’re done with him now.”

“No, I’m seeing him one more time,” David said. “Tomorrow.”

Patrick just stared at David then he stood, grabbed a blanket from the closet, and left the room.

“Wait,” David called after him. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna sleep in the car.”

“What? Why?”

“I just need to sleep in the car.”

“No one with a perfectly good bedroom ever needs to sleep in a car,” David laughed. “What are you doing?”

Patrick turned in the hall and faced David, hating how close they were, how possible it was to just grab the man by the shirt and kiss him. He hated that he wanted to kiss him even now, even after being told twice in a row that David was choosing someone else over him, choosing someone terrible, choosing him deliberately. He looked up into David’s eyes and wanted to tell him he loved him, but _goddammit_, this was the worst possible time for that.

He turned back again without saying a word and left. David didn’t follow.

Patrick found his car just outside, grumbling to himself about how he had no right to be upset. He did this to himself. Even if David loved him, even if David was ready to run off to Vegas and make it official that very second, they couldn’t do anything while any little piece of him still held onto Sebastien. He settled into the back of the car, pulled the blanket around his body, leaned against the window, and looked up into the stars. There was no way he’d be able to sleep tonight but at least he wouldn’t have to lie so close to David that the unbearable pain of the unknown reminded him with every breath, every gentle kick under the covers, ever little sound that he was always going to be David’s second choice.

A few minutes later, he noticed the light from the open door of Ray’s home and the familiar outline of the man he loved standing in it. David was walking closer and approaching the window. Patrick allowed himself to watch David but he didn’t talk to him.

David rapped lightly on the window, the vibrations pounding against Patrick’s head.

Patrick opened the door just a little. “What?” he snapped.

“Hello, sir. I’m working my way through idiot school and was wondering if you could spare a few dollars for a worthy cause?”

Patrick suppressed a smirk. “I think you’ve gotten your money’s worth already.”

David crouched beside the car, opening the door enough to talk to Patrick properly. “Would you please just come inside? You’re being very dramatic and I’m afraid you’re going to outshine me.”

Patrick considered him for a moment. “David, I don’t think you get it.”

David reached his hand in and found Patrick’s. “I get it,” he said.

“Then if you get it, it should be pretty clear why I can’t be in there with you tonight.”

“I understand, but I promise it’s not what you think it is.”

“No, David,” Patrick insisted. “Look…” He accepted David’s hand into his own and squeezed it tight. “I have no place telling you how to feel about him or what to feel or how to deal with it or anything. That’s all up to you. But I…” he looked earnestly into David’s eyes, “I just want whatever it is between you two to be done before…”

“I know,” David said again. “I’m telling you I understand, and I’m asking you to let me do what I need to do so that we can get past this. Okay?”

Patrick inhaled deeply. “I don’t know, David.”

“Please?”

Patrick intertwined their fingers, ran his thumb along David’s. “Everything I’ve heard about Sebastien – and a few things I’ve googled – have all been bad news. The guy’s trash, David, and I wonder if you’re the only person who doesn’t see it.”

“I know what he is,” David said.

“I can’t watch him hurt you.”

“If that’s what you’re scared of seeing, don’t look. But at least get a good sleep on a comfortable bed in a warm home.”

He thought about it for a minute more. “I don’t know. I need to decide.”

David nodded. “Then I’ll be upstairs waiting.”

“Okay.”

“And by waiting, I mean eating leftovers and watching House Hunters.”

“I know.”

David pulled his hand away and went upstairs. He half-expected Patrick to follow him in immediately but he didn’t. So David did as he said he’d do. He prepared for bed, warmed up the chicken, and finished it off while he watched an inexplicably wealthy couple choose a tri-level beachside with no yard over a split-level suburban haven and a farmyard-chic colonial.

He switched the light off and lay on his left side facing the door. He had just started dozing off when he was stirred awake by the sound of the door opening, the soft tiptoeing of a man who should have known better, and the warmth of Patrick’s body lying in the bed beside him.

“Goodnight, Patrick,” David smiled.

“Goodnight, David.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, safe to say I owe bellafarella my life.


	10. Chapter 9

Patrick opened his eyes and the room around him was still a little dark, but he knew it was morning. He was comfortable – more comfortable than usual - and he was warm. He was on his side facing David’s back, and his arm was draped around David’s waist. David’s arm was over his. And it all felt so fucking natural.

He pulled his arm away slowly and carefully, but just when he’d almost slipped it out from between David’s waist and his arm, he felt it pulled back to where it was again. David was awake, he supposed. David wanted him close and he couldn’t help but oblige.

There wasn’t much space between them but what little there had been was gone after Patrick pressed his body to David’s, spooning him, inhaling him, savoring him. His palm smoothed over David’s chest, over the softest t-shirt fabric he’d ever felt and surprisingly firm pecs. He pressed his forehead to the middle of David’s back, just between his shoulder blades. He shifted his knees up behind David’s knees. They stayed like this quietly for several minutes. The rest of the world could wait.

And then David turned to his back, looked at Patrick looking at him like that. He let the feeling of Patrick holding him register just long enough to know it was safe. He gazed into Patrick’s eyes and prepared to fall into them. He prepared for whatever might happen because none of it was terrifying anymore. Not here. Not like this.

Patrick couldn’t help it anymore. His hand moved further up David’s chest, up the side of his neck, over his cheek, holding him there. His thumb traced up David’s jawline, scratched against the stubble, and then he pulled David closer, leaned in, kissed him.

This was no good morning kiss. This was a morning, noon, night, next week, next year, and straight on to forever kiss. This was _don’t let me go_ and _never say goodbye_. This was _I’ll take care of you_ and _you’ll never hurt for my sake_. This was _let me take the pain away_ and _let me make you whole again_. This was _I’m in love with you_. This was _please, please fall in love with me too._

Patrick wondered if he was dreaming this. He wondered if maybe he’d died in his sleep and this was his personal heaven. David was touching him now, fingernails lightly grazing over his arms and he didn’t need to be pinched to know he was awake. This was real, and there was no reason to put an end to this now.

David’s arms wrapped Patrick up and moved him over his body. Patrick’s legs fell on either side of David’s hips, his hands now both on David’s face as he concentrated on all of this. He could feel David’s body responding to his and the revelation that he had that kind of power, that kind of effect on this impossible man almost made him lose it. He broke away from the kiss at last and they caught their breaths with foreheads pressed together, no end in sight.

“What’s happening?” Patrick whispered.

David smiled. “We’re connecting,” he answered.

Patrick opened his eyes and looked down into David’s. “Is this smart?”

“I don’t know,” he said in a painful moment of honesty. “But it’s fun.”

“Should we stop?”

“Do you want to stop?”

Patrick thought for a moment then kissed David again. “No,” he said quickly.

David smiled against his lips and wrapped him up tight again. His hands traveled up into Patrick’s hair, his hips swaying upward, inviting Patrick’s closer, their legs intertwining as they rolled over and David trailed his kisses over Patrick’s jaw, his chin, down his throat.

“Wait, wait,” Patrick halted him and he took David’s face in his hands. “I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

David regarded the honesty in Patrick’s eyes. “Okay,” he said breathlessly. “We don’t have to.”

“Just… not now. Not today.”

“I understand.” He bowed into another kiss, long and slow.

“David,” Patrick barely spoke when their lips had parted. “David…”

“What?” He answered.

Patrick didn’t know what to say. All he could think of was _I love you, I love you, I love you, _and those words in that order would have been a terrible choice.

“No one’s ever made me feel this way before,” he spoke instead.

David smiled. “Me neither.”

Patrick’s eyes grew wide. “You don’t have to say that.”

“Yes I do, because it’s true and you deserve to know what you do to me.”

Patrick began to laugh, but he stopped himself.

“What?” David asked.

“Nothing, it’s just…” he shifted his hips up against David’s. “I think I can _feel_ what I do to you.”

“Yeah and if you keep doing that with your body you’re gonna feel something else in a minute.”

Patrick untangled his legs from David’s and allowed him to fall back beside him in the bed. They held hands and lay close together but refrained from the kissing to allow their bodies to relax.

“What time is it?” David asked.

Patrick looked over at the clock. “Quarter to seven.”

“Won’t Ray be in here in a few minutes? I don’t want him seeing us like this!”

“Ray’s gone,” Patrick reminded him. “It’s Saturday, remember?”

David thought for a moment, then smiled in relief. “Oh, right.”

“But that’s not to say we don’t have plenty to worry about today.”

David had been wondering if Patrick was going to bring it up, and now that he had, he wished they’d discovered themselves any other weekend at all.

“Just keep in mind that he’s gone tomorrow,” David told him. “And then we can focus on us.”

“That’s all day today and all day tomorrow that we need to spend not focusing on us. I don’t like that.”

David squeezed his hand tighter. “If it helps you feel any better, I’m always focusing on you.”

Patrick laughed.

“What’s so funny now?”

“You!” Patrick grinned. “Saying all this cute shit. Where’s the David Rose I know? What have you done with him?”

David smiled. He was silent for a moment, watching the wrinkles dance around Patrick’s eyes. “The real question is,” he countered softly, “what have _you_ done _to_ him?”

Patrick had no answer. None that he could verbalize, anyway.

“We need to get something to eat,” David smiled. “What do you want?”

“Can we please go somewhere where I can get some goddamn eggs?”

They managed to leave the bed and dress and get out of the house without doing all the things they wanted to do to one another. Nothing more than a gentle nudge, a hand softly pressed to the small of a back, a knowing smirk. There was no conversation about holding hands because it just happened. There was no negotiating the terms of a kiss because they just happened. Sneaking to the stock room for stolen, secret moments just happened all day long when customers left and they were alone and they found that work was a lot more fun and the hours flew by much faster when they kept each other company.

It was nearing three before either of them acknowledged it. Patrick jotted down appointments on the calendar, David wiped the dust from the windowsills, and then Patrick had to know.

“Are you still seeing him today?”

David looked over at Patrick, who was looking at the calendar. “I have to,” he said. “I told you that.”

“I know.” He was trying his best not to make a fuss out of it and ruin their perfect day thus far. But then he still wondered. “For how long?”

“As long as it takes, I guess.”

Maybe it was the nonchalance about it that Patrick resented. “Do you expect it to take a long time?”

“I expect it to take _some_ time,” he answered almost too quickly, defensively. “And when it’s over, we’re done with him. And if I do it right, tomorrow won’t be any kind of an issue.”

“You think he’ll be gone tonight?”

“Not necessarily.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“I don’t know,” David answered. “I’m still working on it.”

Patrick wanted to trust him, but he wasn’t an idiot. He could see how Sebastien looked and he saw how David looked at him. He couldn’t compete with that and he would be a fool to try.

“Can you just do me a favor?” Patrick asked. He looked at David now.

“I might.”

“Can you just… Can you never tell me anything that happens between you guys tonight?”

David was confused. “Why would anything happen between us tonight?”

“I just have a feeling,” he said. “But I don’t want to find out if my feeling’s right.”

David stopped what he was doing and began walking toward Patrick. He wanted to take the man into his arms and show him how little he had to worry about, but Patrick stopped him. He held his hand up and pressed it to David’s chest. He looked into David’s eyes and shook his head. “I’m not angry. I’m not telling you how to handle your shit. I’m just asking you to finish it up however you need to, then never tell me what you had to do. Okay?”

“I think between the two of us, one is far more likely to get hurt by all this.”

“You think I’m incapable of getting hurt?” Patrick asked.

“I think you’ll come out of all this just fine regardless,” David said.

“So you do. You think I can’t get hurt here.”

“I just think you’ll be fine.”

In frustration, Patrick reached his hands to David’s shoulders. “Look at me,” he said carefully. “I absolutely stand a chance to get hurt here. That’s what happens when you decide to love someone, and I’ve made that decision with you. So maybe that part is my fault. But what you choose to do with that is yours and I’m asking you to make the choice that doesn’t hurt me.”

David looked silently into Patrick’s eyes. Frozen.

“Did you understand what I said?” Patrick asked.

David nodded.

“Is there a problem?”

David took a step back. “You love me?” He asked.

It took Patrick a minute but he realized he did, in fact, say that. He said he loved David. He shouldn’t have said that. “Don’t focus on that part,” he said.

“How am I not supposed to focus on that part?”

“By not focusing on it! I don’t know!”

“I didn’t realize you…”

“Well let’s move past it.”

“We can’t move past that! You just said it!”

“Well sure, I kind of said it. But I didn’t_ say_ say it.”

“Close enough.”

“No.”

“You love me?” David asked again. 

Patrick hated himself. They’d come this far and now he’d blown it. And _oh well_, he figured. The cat was out of the bag now.

“So what if I do?” He asked. “Does that change anything?”

David didn’t answer.

“I love you, David. _Fuck_, it actually feels good to say that out loud finally…”

“I think I need to leave early,” David said, stumbling back toward the door.

“Did I just ruin everything?”

David stopped at the door and looked at Patrick. Patrick thought he might answer that no, he hadn’t ruined anything. That David just wasn’t in that place yet and that was fine, he didn’t need to be. But then David was gone and Patrick just stood there watching the door, wishing he could rewind his life about fifteen minutes and just shut the hell up for once in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Infinite best wishes/warmest regards to bellafarella, who beta'd for me on a national holiday. The real MVP.


	11. Chapter 10

There were a number of things that Patrick did when he was having a rough day. He would sometimes go to his room and read a relaxing book, maybe something about practical business practices he could implement in the store. He would sometimes drive out to the Elm Falls and watched the rainbow-colored mist where the falls hit the lake. He’d call his parents sometimes and talk to them about his life in this town, about how well he was getting along with his new business partner, how _I can’t wait for you to meet him, Dad. He’s really great_. And _you’re gonna love him, mom. He’s the best._

On very rare occasions though, he would put on a sturdy pair of boots and some sensible clothes and take a long hike up a mountain trail he’d discovered his second day in town. He’d make his way to the top – to a cliff that overlooked the vista. He’d sit and take it in and think about how everything had changed so suddenly the day he met the man he’d now just confessed his love to. He’d consider his feelings, compare them to the feelings he’d had in past relationships, and ultimately realize that what he felt now was something very different. And it had nothing to do with the fact that he was having feelings for a man or that the man was brilliant and beautiful and possibly unattainable. It was all about how he knew from the moment he met him that if he should ever be so impossibly lucky as to find that the man had the same feelings, he’d never want to discover those feelings with anyone else. David was it for him. He didn’t just see David as an option for his future, he saw David as the _only _option for his future, and there was something terrifying about that. Terrifying not because he worried David would do anything to hurt him or that he would deliberately play with his papier-mâché heart but because he felt a little like a gambler betting the farm in a game of roulette the first time he played. Realistically, he may have allowed himself other options and known that such options could exist if he’d let them. But as it were, he simply was not interested in anything at all that wasn’t David Rose.

Today, right here and right now, none of those things could possibly take his mind off what had just occurred. His unprompted, unnecessary, possibly inappropriate declaration of love had just taken his one chance at a smooth transition into that blissful forever and stomped it underfoot in one fell swoop.

He stayed at the store much later than he needed to, counting inventory for the third time that week and alphabetizing their order forms and even, at one point, watching YouTube tutorials to see if he could just fix that bathroom tile himself. He was shocked to see that all his procrastinating, all his efforts to leave the store so late that he’d be too tired to care where David was or what he was doing by then had failed. It was only a little past seven when he realized that being alone in the store was somehow more chaotic than being here with David and everything swirling around the hallowed space around them. He wanted to have a distraction but David was his usual distraction and this was the first time he’d actively had to find a way to ease his mind without any of the usual vices – including, but not limited to, a certain overly-dramatic, semi-professional, impossibly beautiful man he’d fallen in love with quite by accident.

With Ray still gone, Patrick knew dinner would either be microwaved or served to him at a questionable diner, and he chose the latter. Misery loves company. He found a booth where he wouldn’t have to worry about making small talk with Twyla and admitting what a fool he’d been these past couple of days. A booth where hopefully no one would notice him, talk to him, or bring any information out of him that he wasn’t ready to share.

He realized while slicing through his chicken breast that this was a booth he’d once sat at with David. It had been David’s birthday and he’d taken him to dinner to celebrate, give him a gift, and see if he could find the courage to tell David how he felt. As it happened, David was oblivious to the sentimentality of the gift despite how much he appeared to appreciate the gift itself, and everything else Patrick had planned had sort of unraveled from there, including his intention to kiss David before the night was over. Even if there was a moment when it looked as though David wanted to kiss him, _he could swear it_, he was too scared of losing everything to make that first move and he spent his entire night lying awake wishing he hadn’t let David leave without them having done that.

“So I’ve come here twice this weekend, which I never do, and you’ve been here by yourself both times,” a voice spoke. Patrick looked up to see Stevie again. She was probably the only presence he’d welcome right now. “Where’s your pal?”

Patrick smiled a little. “I thought you’d know,” he said gloomily, picking at some sort of debris on the handle of his coffee mug.

“Why would I know? He hardly hangs out with me anymore now that he’s got you.” She helped herself to the seat opposite Patrick. “It’s just weird seeing you without him twice in one week.”

“Well it feels weird to me too,” he agreed. “And believe me, if things were going the way I wanted them to go, you wouldn’t have seen me in here alone at all.”

She watched him stare at the food still left on his plate, watched him fiddle with a napkin and twirl a fork around his fingers. She wished he’d just look at her long enough to see that she wanted to help him without saying it out loud. She didn’t like saying nice things out loud. She worried people might know she cared and that would ruin her entire reputation.

“He told me what you said,” she told him at last.

He looked up at her. Bingo.

“He texted me.” She scrolled through her phone until she found it. “Right around four o’clock, sent me the cry-face emoji, the broken heart emoji, and the guitar emoji. I put two and two together and asked if you guys had talked and he said you told him you loved him.”

“You figured that out from those emojis?”

“Well I knew the guitar was either about you or Harry Styles. Harry hasn’t done anything new for a while, so process of elimination.”

Patrick smiled, but it faded quickly. “Did he say how he felt about what I said?”

She looked into Patrick’s eyes for a moment, hoping he could understand this part of David – the part that she herself had learned the hard way a couple years before. That David sort of regarded his feelings as being separate from himself, that he didn’t like to say them out loud and that saying them out loud made them real. That David had a hard time acknowledging that he had no control over how he felt about things or people or even one particular person who sneaked into his heart in the night and stole his love.

“You know how he feels about you,” she said simply.

“Yeah, but what if you were wrong? What if we were all wrong and he doesn’t feel any of that?”

She reached across to Patrick’s plate and grabbed a bit of food from it. “We’ve played this game before,” she reminded him. “I know him pretty well, and I know he loves you.”

“Yeah but has he actually said that to you?”

“He’s only said ‘I love you’ three times. Twice to his parents and once –”

“—At a Mariah Carey concert,” he finished. “I know.”

“So you think he’s just gonna go from that to laying it all out to his business partner?”

When she put it like that, he understood. “So what should I do now?” He asked her.

“Well,” she started, helping herself to more of his food. “If I were you, I’d chase after him. For all he’s got going for him, he is surprisingly insecure. He might just need you to let him know you’re serious.”

“I’m so sick of chasing though,” he said. But he wasn’t really sick of chasing. He was sick of putting himself out there so many times in a row without any indication that his feelings would be vindicated. “I am so disgustingly in love with him, Stevie, but every time I get anywhere close to saying it, he acts like it’s the worst thing he could possibly hear.”

She moved his plate in front of her and took over eating it. “I think with Sebastien in town, the subject of love is just a lot for him right now. When that guy’s gone, you two will sort all this out.”

“Did he love Sebastien?” Patrick asked, almost choking on the words.

Stevie considered Patrick’s question. “He just told me that he tried really hard with him and that in the end, Sebastien told David he was impossible to love. I think that’s got him fucked up. It’s a fucked up thing to say, don’t you think?”

“David’s not impossible to love,” Patrick scoffed. “What kind of an asshole says something like that?”

“The kind of asshole who’s trying to sell candid photos of Mrs. Rose to tabloids to embarrass David.”

“So why is he running right back into Sebastien’s arms?” He asked his voice clearly filled with resentment, contemplation, and most of all sadness.

“He says he has to,” she shrugged. “That’s all he’d tell me.” She checked her phone for the tenth time.

“That’s what he told me too.”

Stevie finished Patrick’s dinner in silence, more than happy to pay for it with company and maybe some degree of sanity. Patrick sat on his side of the booth with his hands clasped together atop the table and his mind barreling down the track at a hundred miles per second. David had run away from a sure thing to fall into bed with a man he’d knew would leave him for dead given the chance. And Patrick couldn’t chase anymore. He’d made himself clear. No, he decided. No, David would need to come to him if he wanted to move forward. Patrick deserved to be chased for once.

He knew that David was not only possible to love, but almost impossible _not_ to love. He knew that loving David came as naturally to him as breathing and that telling David so had been as easy as first grade mathematics and that understanding David was as rewarding as understanding baseball. He knew that David was easy to love, so easy to love that he hadn’t even realized it was happening. He knew that David deserved to be both loved and kissed properly, both by him and both as soon and as often as possible.

“Do you wanna go see a movie or something?” He asked after several minutes of silence. “I need to clear my mind.”

“Can’t,” she said. “I’ve got plans.” She smiled down at an apparent text.

“Well then I’m gonna have to get really creative about keeping my mind busy and trying not to think about whatever they’re doing right now.”

“You’ll think of something,” she said.

He lent her a broken smile. “I can’t go home because the whole room is full of him,” he said. “I can’t go get a drink because they might be there. I can’t go anywhere because there’s nothing else to do around here.”

“Go back to the store,” she said. “Get a little cleaning done or something.”

He offered a confused look. “I don’t think going back there will help.”

“I think it will.”

“Why?”

Her phone buzzed, she checked it with a smirk, and she looked up at him. “You know, you’re probably the smartest person I know in real life.”

“Thank you?”

“But you are such an idiot sometimes that I want to scream.”

“What?”

“Go back to the store,” she said. “I have a date to get to, and you have a fake boyfriend to find.”

He watched the look in her eye go from playful to serious and shot to his feet when he realized what she was saying. He made his way across the street and into the store, and he could sense David’s presence before he saw him. He rushed to the stock room and there stood David wearing clothes that were never intended to be mixed with manual labor, and he was stocking shelves with product they didn’t need to unbox for another week. Patrick’s presence clearly took him by surprise.

David stared at him for a moment, his heart racing before he spoke a low, soft, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Patrick answered.

“How’d you know I was here?”

“Stevie told me to come over here. I assumed you told her you were here.”

“I told her I was coming here to be alone.”

Patrick’s body tensed as all his hopes fell around him in pieces. “Sorry. I’ll leave you be.”

“No,” David said immediately. “It’s okay. You’re here now, so…”

Patrick nodded. David set down the last two bottles he held and straightened his clothes while Patrick stood just a few feet from him. He knew that he should address it, that Patrick would have questions that deserved to be answered but that he’d surely never ask. David wanted to answer all of them but he was starting to think that every time he opened his mouth, he made everything worse somehow. Patrick was feeling the same way.

“He’s leaving in the morning,” David said at last.

Patrick tried not to smile. He wasn’t sure he would be happy with the reasons Sebastien was so quickly done with David and his mind assumed the worst.

David held up a small black item that Patrick quickly realized was a memory card. “I got what I needed,” David smiled.

Patrick nodded. “Those are the pictures he took?”

“Yeah,” David grinned. “Might’ve dropped it in my drink a couple times. Might’ve dropped it on the ground and stepped on it a couple times too. All very tragic.”

Patrick couldn’t help but smile now. “So I take it that bridge has been burned?”

“Burnt to a crisp and the ashes scattered from here to SoHo.”

Patrick wanted to ask what David had to do to get that close to Sebastien, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bear to think what would happen if he heard an answer for which he was not prepared.

“You know, I realized something,” David continued, and he took a step closer to Patrick.

Patrick felt breathless at the feeling of David approaching him, at the intolerable prospect of having it all so fantastically close to him before it was inevitably ripped away.

“I realized that I had the upper hand for the first time in years. It was intoxicating.” He crossed his arms and leaned his side against the shelf. “Everything was in my control in that situation. That’s never happened before.”

“Musta been nice.”

“It was.”

Patrick stared at him, awed. He wanted to kiss him.

“And then I realized _everything_ in my life is in my control now. Or…” he shrugged a little. “Almost everything.”

Patrick wanted his arms around David. He wanted to feel what he’d felt this morning but with no looming shadow of another man hanging over them.

“Everything except you,” David finished. “I don’t get to control how you feel about me. I just have to accept it, even if it’s scary.”

Patrick felt the fear in his chest that this was going to be that moment when David told him that it couldn’t happen right now. That he liked him well enough, sure, but not enough to match Patrick’s love just yet. Maybe not ever. All the worst-case scenarios ran rampant through Patrick’s mind and he just had to speak now.

“Before you say it,” he started quietly, his eyes on David’s, pleading. “I need you to know that what I said was real. Maybe it was a mistake but it was the truth.”

David’s brows furrowed. “A mistake?”

“I don’t think my mistake was in loving you,” Patrick clarified. “I think my mistake was in saying it.”

David shook his head, stared at the floor. “I just didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t. And…” he took in a breath. “And maybe I’ve ruined everything. But I’d rather ruin everything with the truth than ruin myself living a lie.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” David corrected him. “You think you ruined everything?”

Patrick had no reaction. The man before him was so beautiful and true that for a moment Patrick forgot how to put his thoughts into words or actions.

“Patrick, you fixed it all. You fixed everything. You made me realize for the first time in my life that to be loved isn’t to be a burden. To be loved,” he stopped, and he stepped even closer now, his hands at Patrick’s sides. “To be loved is to be seen. And you see me. Terrifying as that thought is, it’s true.”

“Why is it terrifying to be seen and loved, David? Why do you run from it?”

“I run from it preemptively,” he spoke in unadulterated honesty. “I run from love before it gets the chance to run from me. But I don’t want to run from this.”

Patrick held one hand up to David’s arm. “You’re sure?”

David nodded. “I love you, Patrick.”

And now it was all too much. Patrick wrapped David up and kissed his lips, kissed him deeply and passionately and lovingly, kissed him until he felt they might have reinvented the act because no kiss, nothing in the world had ever felt like this did. Here they were alone at last, both in love, both so desperate for the touch and validation of the other that no thought was so terrifying that it could break them apart.

“Stay with me tonight,” Patrick whispered at last.

David smiled. “I have to get back to the motel eventually,” he said. “I need to tell my mom about the pictures. She won’t be able to sleep if she thinks he’s going to do this.”

Patrick laughed. “You couldn’t do that before you came here and we did all this?”

David shook his head, rested it against Patrick’s. “I’ve just had an epiphany tonight,” he explained. “I needed my dramatic break.”

Patrick held David’s face in his hands and kissed him again. “Can I drive you home?” he asked. And of course he could.

It was late now. Late and dark and gloriously happy. They drove those few blocks to the motel and right on past Sebastien’s room, where he could be seen through the window packing a bag and looking thoroughly miserable. Patrick pretended not to notice.

They found David’s room, and David asked if they could just stay outside together for a moment before Patrick left. He wanted to enjoy the moment, he said, without his entire family going on about what they always go on about when they find out about a new relationship. He asked if they could sit outside and talk for a moment, and Patrick said that they could, of course, but that he probably wouldn’t hear anything David said over the overwhelming temptation to lean across the center console and kiss him.

“So here’s a question,” David asked then, his hand in Patrick’s, their bodies as close as they could be in this circumstance. “Those things I left in your room… Do you think I could just leave them there?”

Patrick eyed David skeptically. “Why would you want to leave your stuff there?”

“Well, it’s not _all_ my stuff. I have more stuff here.”

“Okay. But still.”

David squeezed Patrick’s hand tight. “Because I think I’d like to stay with you sometimes.”

Patrick smiled. “I hope you will.”

“Friday nights, preferably. No offense to Ray, but I’m not really a morning person.”

Patrick nodded. “I think we can arrange that.”

David watched him for a moment until it was all too much, and he had to look away. “It’s sort of like an abyss, this feeling, but less ominous. Is there a good version of an abyss?”

Patrick’s thumb traced over the back of David’s hand. “I don’t know if there’s a word for it,” he said. “But I know what you mean. I know how that feels.”

David almost seemed to be tearing up now but Patrick couldn’t acknowledge that possibility. If David was crying, he knew he would end up crying, and that might be a little much for the first day of the relationship, even for them.

“I don’t want to hit the bottom,” David said. “I just want to keep falling forever.”

“So let’s fall then,” Patrick nudged his shoulder. “Let’s not even think about the bottom.”

David knew that if he didn’t get out of the car right then, he never would. He smiled at Patrick before he opened the door and let himself out. Patrick left the car too, walking him to his door like the gentleman he always wanted to be.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” He asked David.

“Mmhm,” David beamed, his eyes twinkling like the stars overhead. “We can talk anytime you’d like.”

Patrick stayed there for a moment, his eyes looking into those eyes, wishing his lips were on those lips, ready to take him into his bed and into his heart, not necessarily in that order.

“Goodnight, David,” he said at last, and he turned to leave.

“Wait,” David spoke, his hand reaching to Patrick’s arm, catching him before he left.

“Yeah?” Patrick asked looking at David’s hand on his arm before looking into those eyes, eyes that made him fall even more in love each time.

David smiled. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *holds my oscar close to my chest* WOW OKAY I COULD NOT DO THIS WITHOUT CAT (bellafarella) and also my parents and jesus and I'm just kidding but Seriously I'm so glad that this is all over and I can sleep again.
> 
> I'm nbc-trialanderror on tumblr if you want to find me there for some reason. Questions, compliments, five hundred and twelve dollars in cold, hard cash. Whatever. 
> 
> Thanks for the reading, the kudos, and the comments. I love you all, Marta.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: nbc-trialanderror


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